


There's a Light on the Porch Here for Someone

by freeyourheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Car Accidents, Deputy Derek, Deputy Derek Hale, Derek and Stiles Cuddle, Derek and Stiles are Neighbors, Derek has a Puppy, Drinking, Drunk Derek, Drunk Sex, Drunk Stiles, Family Dinners, Hangover, Hurt Derek, Jealous Derek, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Major Character Injury, Neighbors, Overthinking, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Panic Attacks, Roommates, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott and Stiles are Roommates, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Teacher Stiles, awkward dinner, mention of Hale fire, mention of cannon deaths, mention of frontotemporal dementia, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freeyourheart/pseuds/freeyourheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale moved to Beacon Hills to be alone.<br/>He had finally found a place where he fit - a place that fit him.</p><p> </p><p>But that was all too good to be true…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. disassembled

Derek Hale moved to Beacon Hills to be alone. 

He liked that it was a small town. A place where he didn’t have to worry about the hustle and bustle of the city, but not so small that every inhabitant knew his daily business before he even knew it himself. He had spent time living under both extremes, but had finally found some even ground when he nestled himself into Beacon Hills.

He was glad to start a new life here. Six months ago he had uprooted his entire existence from New York, which hadn’t consisted of much more than one large cardboard box of clothes, and a shoe-box full of mementos of his family. He turned in his NYPD badge, packed up his car, and left the city. After a few weeks of living near San Francisco with his sister, he bought a corner lot house in a quaint little neighborhood in Beacon Hills, got himself a puppy, and then swiftly moved up the ranks in the Beacon County Police Department.

He was now the sheriff's chief deputy, and he worked along side another great group of officers. He had worked in quite a few different departments, but Beacon County was already quickly becoming his favorite. The sheriff had taken him on the team with open arms, and quickly noticed Derek’s perseverance and skill. He had even been the person who suggested Derek move into the house he was now currently in.

Everything was great in Beacon Hills. He had finally found a place where he fit - a place that fit him.

But that was all too good to be true…

 

* * *

 

It was a Thursday. Derek usually quite enjoyed Thursdays, because he got to set his alarm for nine o’clock. Yes, he got to sleep in, and it was wondrous. But on this particular Thursday he was woken up by a loud, repetitive banging noise outside. It only lasted for about a minute, but it was obnoxious enough to wake him up. He squinted at his phone through the darkness. It was six in the morning. He groaned and shoved a pillow over his head.

He tried to fall back to sleep for another hour, but it was hopeless. With a sigh he pulled himself out of bed, and put on some basketball shorts, running shoes, and a t-shirt. Since he was never going to get back to sleep, he figured that he might as well do something productive. 

He opened his front door and walked down the path to the sidewalk. Instantly, his whole new, perfect world came crashing down around him.

In the front yard of his next-door neighbor's house was a brand new, freshly hammered into the ground, FOR RENT sign.

Derek had purchased his home for many reasons, the main one being that it was the corner lot, meaning he only had one neighbor. He was told that his only next-door neighbor was a businessman who mostly worked abroad. Derek could count the number of times he had seen the man in the past six months on one hand.

Derek liked quiet. He liked his neighborhood just the way it was. He couldn’t help but believe that the looming FOR RENT sign was some sort of omen sent to disassemble his perfect little existence. He didn’t know who would move in next door, and he wouldn’t know until someone did. That worried him more than anything. The unknown. He knew what kind of luck he had, and he also knew that his current situation was too good to be true. No traveling businessman was going to rent the house next door- that would just be too perfect, and too easy.

Needless to say, Derek tacked on an extra three stress-relieving miles to his morning run. 

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles Stilinski couldn’t even count the number of times he had been on Zillow that past week alone. He was on a mission with one strict goal: to find a house in Beacon Hills that he and his best friend Scott could afford to rent.**

**To say he was excited to move back to his hometown was a complete and utter understatement. It was actually probably the biggest understatement of the century.**

**He had been offered a teaching position at Beacon Hills Elementary School at the spry age of 22. Of course he had agreed, and Scott had been surprisingly on board with continuing his job hunting from their old stomping grounds.**

**Time, however, was no longer on his side, and he was beginning to grow nervous. He was already anxious beyond words about having to shape the young minds of students in just a few short months, but now he was also stressed that he and Scott would have nowhere to go when their lease was up on their current apartment.**

**He had yet to tell his dad that he was moving home, and Scott hadn’t told his mom yet either. They wanted it to be a surprise. They wanted to show their parents that they were now mature adults that could do something awesome on their own. Stiles was going to feel like shit if he and Scott ended up knocking on his dad’s door one day out of the blue looking for somewhere to live.**

**Stiles opened his laptop and popped open the browser. Zillow was saved as his homepage, so he just put in the appropriate information and hit search. He closed his eyes as the page loaded, drumming his hands on the table in a fit of nervousness. When he opened his eyes he glanced right to the number of results. Yesterday the number was a 5. Today the number was a 6. He tried not to get his hopes up as he scrolled through the listings, but he epically failed at that. Before he even made it to the new listing, he was already planning on taking a trip to Ikea to pick out new furniture. He did this every time despite the impending disappointment that was more than likely to occur.**

**This time, the new listing seemed to be okay. It was within their price range. It didn’t need to be fixed up. Everything seemed to be in order. Stiles let the excitement begin to build up inside him.**

**That was until he typed the address into Google Maps and realized that he knew all too well where the house was. Of course it just had to be directly next door to one of his dad’s employees, who also just so happened to be Stiles’ ex. His name was James, and the relationship had not ended on the greatest of terms ever. Actually it had ended on pretty terrible terms in which Stiles had nothing to do with.**

**Stiles tried his hardest to push this issue aside, and he clicked back over to Zillow. He looked at the pictures of the inside of the potential house over and over again, until he finally convinced himself that he could get over the fact that he would be neighbors with the enemy if it meant he and Scott would have a place to live.**

**“Scott. Come here,” he yelled, before he could talk himself out of it. “I think I found us a house.”**


	2. surprised

This was Derek’s nightmare.

The sign was gone. It had only been three days, but the sign was already gone.

He spent the rest of the week in a constant fit of nervous anticipation. Maybe he was being nosey and kind of creepy, but he would look out of his bedroom window at the house on an hourly basis when he was not at work. 

He wasn’t ready for someone to come in and potentially offset the equilibrium of his picturesque little world. But the more he thought about it, he began to realize that whoever it was had already done just that. They had thrown off the balance and they hadn’t even moved in yet. Had that sign never existed in the first place, he wouldn’t be displaying such grumpy and paranoid behavior now.

He couldn’t help but feel slightly ashamed of his personal conduct. The new neighbor might be the world’s nicest, quietest, most solitary human to ever exist. He was judging them before he had even met them, and his paranoia was becoming joke worthy. He really needed to cool it.

 

* * *

 

By the end of the week, a U-Haul truck finally appeared, and that was the day that Derek took back any nice thoughts he had tried to have about his potential new neighbor. 

Because he wasn’t just going to have _a_ new neighbor. He was going to have two. 

He watched through his curtains as two young guys moved in a bunch of random pieces of somewhat dilapidated, non-matching furniture. They had to be fresh out of college, renting their first house or something like that. For all he knew, there could be more people on their way to move in as well.

Derek backed away from the window and fell onto his bed with a groan. This was the last thing he needed: a house full of college kids right next door to him. His perfect little utopia was already a distant memory of a dream. His quiet nights were soon to be replaced with loud music and parties, and Derek wanted to put up with nothing of the sort.

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles was on an ultimate high. They got the house, and they were moving in. It wasn’t until he and Scott went back outside to grab the last few items from the back of Stiles’ Jeep when he remembered that James lived next door to them now. He glanced towards the house and noticed a brand new Toyota parked in the driveway.**

**“Looks like wittle Jamesy must have gotten a promotion,” Stiles said. He was having a hard time keeping the bitterness from his voice. “I told my dad not to give him one, and he said he never would. Lies and slander, I tell you.”**

**“Are you gonna go over there and say hi?” Scott asked, a concerned look taking over his face. Scott probably hated James more than Stiles did.**

**Stiles didn’t answer right away. He really didn’t want to go over there, but he also didn’t want James to just happen to come across him one day and realize that they were now neighbors. He didn’t want to look like a stalker or something.**

**He let out a long sigh. “I guess I should. But I’m gonna shower first, for reasons.”**

**Stiles went inside and hopped right into the shower. He tried to postpone getting out as long as possible, but when the hot water started to run out, his getting out was inevitable. He took time picking out pants that he knew hugged him in all the right spots, and a grey Henley shirt that made it obvious he had toned his arms. He made sure his hair was standing in a perfect messy array. He wanted to look good. He wanted to make it clear that he had won the break-up. Because that was a real life thing: the Break-up Champion.**

**Stiles made it to James’ front door before he really started to flip out. He didn’t know what to do. He could stand there, awkwardly, and knock on the door like a normal person would, or he could do what he used to do back when he and James were dating and he used to surprise visit. It was the single most annoying thing Stiles ever did, according to James, but that was only probably because it was ultimately how Stiles had caught him cheating.**

**With that thought fresh in his mind, all he wanted in the world right then was to annoy James. He walked around to the door on the side of the house and tested it. The doorknob twisted, so he let himself in.**

**The side door let in to the kitchen, so Stiles took a seat at the table, which was different than the last time he had been over almost a year before. He could have went on an adventure through the house to find James, but this would be funnier. When James came into the kitchen for something, he would be here, just waiting for him like he used to. Except now he had a spark of mischief in his eye and a smirk on his face, instead of a pained look of sadness and betrayal.**

**A few minutes passed in silence, until Stiles finally heard rustling in the other room. What came around the corner, however, was not his ex, but instead a small golden retriever puppy.**

**“Chevy,” a voice called. The voice did not belong to James, Stiles was sure of that. “Chev, get back in here.”**

**Stiles tried to turn the puppy so that it would go back the way it came, but it wouldn’t budge. It just stood in front of him, letting out little yips and barks. If Stiles hadn't been freaking out he would have thought it was the cutest thing ever.**

**He heard the owner of the voice moving around in the living room. Whoever it was, was probably James’ new flavor of the week. He got up so that he could make a run for it, but it was too late. The owner of the voice was close to the kitchen now. Stiles sat back down at the table and went back to his act. If James wasn’t going to be here to see it happen in person, he was sure as hell going to hear about it.**

 

♢♢♢

“Chevy,” Derek called, as he walked through the living room. His puppy was usually such a good listener, but today he was being a pain. He blamed the new neighbors. He would blame them for everything.

“Chev,” he started to call again, but then he spotted his pup. He was standing in front of the kitchen table barking at a guy who was just sitting there – sitting right in the middle of Derek’s kitchen. “What the- Who the hell are you?”

The way the kid looked at him made Derek want to punch the cocky little grin right off his face.

“Just stopped by to tell James that we’re neighbors now. How’s he treating you? Shitty? Or are you the _other guy,_ so you don’t have to worry about being fucked over?”

Derek was more than confused. First of all, who the hell did this guy think he was, walking right into Derek’s home and sitting at his kitchen table? And second, who the heck was this James character? Derek lost his train of thought when he realized he recognized the kid. He was one of the new neighbors. He felt himself tensing even more in anger and annoyance.

“I don’t know where the hell it is that you’re from, but last time I checked, unlawful entry was illegal. I could have you arrested. Actually, I could just arrest you myself.”

The neighbor just laughed, which annoyed Derek more. “You’re a cop too? Who ever would have guessed that James would start seeing someone from work? I guess I should have seen it coming; I mean he did date the Sheriff’s son.”

Then he got up and started to walk toward the door. Derek should have just let him leave, but his mouth decided otherwise. “What? Who is James? And who the hell are you? And why are you in my house?”

The guy laughed. “James. He lives here. You're obviously sleeping with him or dating him or something. And I told you, I came here to tell him that we are going to be neighbors. You can just pass that information along for me.”

Derek was so confused, but his annoyance was overriding all other emotions at this point. He wanted the kid out of his house. “I’ll be sure to do that,” Derek said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

The kid flew past him, straight to the door. He let himself out, but popped his head back in before shutting it. “You’re a good actor, neighbor. James has trained you well.” Then he winked at Derek and slammed the door shut loudly.

Derek just stood in his kitchen, staring at the door. Who did that kid think he was, breaking into houses? Talk about first impressions. Derek already had a plan to talk to the rest of the neighborhood about starting a neighborhood watch program. He also needed to add "purchase a fancy security system" to his To-Do list. He was not going to put up with hooligans, especially when they lived but a few yards away from him.

Chevy let out a soft whimper. Derek looked down at his puppy and sighed. "I know, Chev,” Derek said. “We're in for some trouble.”

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles skipped through James’ yard, across his own driveway and into the house. Scott was unpacking boxes on the living room floor. They were going to need to go shopping once Stiles started teaching, because their house was barren.**

**“How’d it go?” Scott asked. His voice told Stiles that he was nervous. Confusion blanketed Scott's features when he noticed the grin that was plastered across Stiles' face.**

**“Dude,” Stiles said. He sat down on the floor across from Scott. “James wasn’t home, but he has some guy living there with him and can I just say, _damn_.”**

**Scott started laughing. “You were over there forever. What happened?”**

**“I think I freaked him out,” Stiles said. Then he proceeded to relay the entire story to his best friend.**

**By the end of his anecdote, Scott was cracking up. “James is going to be so confused when he comes home. He’ll probably come kick down our door.”**

**“That’s fine with me, if he brings his sexy friend along with him,” Stiles said, with a wink.**

**Scott just rolled his eyes.**


	3. troubled

Derek was surprised to say that he had not experienced any more trouble from his new neighbors. Granted it had only been three days since one of them had invaded his home, but he had been preparing for the absolute worst since. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen anyone leave that house or enter it since the invasion had taken place. Maybe they were gone.

Deep down, he knew it was wishful thinking, but a guy could dream.

 

♢♢♢

 

**It was Stiles’ dad’s birthday. What better a present than to find out that his one and only son had moved back home? The two boys had been hiding out at their house since they had finished moving in. They had been surviving off of Cup Of Noodles, cereal, and minimal sunlight for the past few days, and they were both about ready to snap. Thankfully, it was finally the night they were going to surprise their parents, so the hiding out would no longer be necessary.**

**Stiles called his dad in the afternoon.**

**“Happy Birthday!” he sang into the phone, right when his dad answered. “What are you now, like a hundred?”**

**His dad chuckled. “Don’t feel a day past twenty-five, kiddo, so don’t push my buttons.”**

**Stiles smiled. He missed his dad. He was excited to be home again, so that they could see more of each other. “Doing anything fun tonight? Any crazy parties, Mr. I-Feel-Twenty-Five?”**

**“Some of the guys from the station wanted to go to the bar later to grab dinner and drinks. I think Melissa was planning on joining us, too.”**

**“Ooo-la-la,” Stiles said. He and Scott were a hundred percent convinced that their parents were secretly dating, but neither his dad, nor Scott’s mom would ever admit to it. Stiles would definitely approve whenever they finally came out about it, but until then he would continue to bug his dad.**

**“Oh, shut it,” his dad said, laughing.**

**“That was basically an admission, just so you know.”**

**His dad kept laughing but didn’t respond.**

**Stiles sighed dramatically. “Anyway. What place are you going to? That way, I can call them to make sure they only serve you something super-duper healthy.”**

**His dad’s laughing stopped abruptly. Then his voice came out in a whine, which rivaled that of a pouty little kid. “Crap. But, Stiles. It’s my birthday.”**

**“Tell me where, or I’ll just call Melissa and ask her. You know she’ll tell me, so you might as well just say it.”**

**“You’re killing me here.”**

**"More like the opposite."**

**His dad groaned loudly into the phone. “Fine. We’re going to that bar on 24 th Street.”**

**_Excellent_** **, Stiles thought. There was a little coffee shop right across the street that he and Scott could wait at until their parents arrived.**

**“I’ll be sure to give them a call. Have a good birthday, Dad. I miss you.”**

**“I know you will.” His voice was disappointed. “But I still miss you too, kiddo.”**

* * *

 

**Stiles’ dad and Scott’s mom arrived at the bar before anyone from the station had. Stiles and Scott booked it across the street and into the place only a few moments later.**

**The two were having a conversation behind their menus and didn’t even seem to notice the presence of the two boys standing by their table.**

**Scott was about to crack up, so Stiles finally cleared his throat.**

**“The lady on the phone said she wasn’t allowed to deny you what you ordered, so I had to come intervene.”**

**His dad looked up at him, confused. After a few seconds he snapped out of it and jumped out of his chair.**

**“Stiles,” he said, hugging his son.**

**Scott gave his mom a hug and then they swapped spots to hug each other’s parent.**

**“What are you two doing here? We might have to get a bigger table.”**

**“We moved here!” Scott blurted out loudly. Then he smacked his hands roughly over his own mouth, his eyes growing round. "Oops."**

**Both Stilinski and Melissa looked incredulously at Scott and then to Stiles, both of their faces expectant for more information.**

**“Surprise?” Stiles said, waving his hands in the air halfheartedly. “The reveal was supposed to go a lot smoother.” He glared at Scott.**

**“You two moved here?” Melissa asked.**

**“Yeah, we’re here to stay. I was offered a teaching job at the elementary school that I just couldn’t turn down.”**

**"And I think Deaton is going to hire me on as a vet tech," Scott exclaimed.**

**Stiles' dad smiled hugely. “This is great news!”**

**“Stilinski,” someone called from the front door of the bar. “Happy Birthday!”**

**A few men that Stiles recognized from all the years he had spent bugging his dad and ex-boyfriend at the station filed in and headed to the table. All three were accompanied by a plus one. Stiles and Scott moved away from the table to make more room.**

**“Scott and I are gonna go hit up the bar,” Stiles said. “We’ll be right back.”**

**Sheriff Stilinski nodded and smiled at his son. “I’ll ask the waitress to pull over another table or some chairs when she comes back over. I think I’m only expecting one more person, plus you two, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.”**

**Scott and Stiles headed to the bar and then each ordered a beer.**

**They were just sitting there, people watching, when Stiles noticed the sexy guy from James’ house walk in. He was wearing a button down, slacks and shiny dress shoes – way too nice of an outfit for the bar. Stiles had to force himself to tear his eyes away.**

**He jabbed an elbow into Scott’s side. “Dude, that’s _him_ ,” Stiles attempted to whisper. “That’s James’ new guy. Oh my god, what if that means that James is here somewhere? What if my dad invited him for some godforsaken reason?”**

**Stiles started looking around the restaurant nervously and not subtly at all.**

**“Shit-shit-shit. He’s gotta be here somewhere,” Stiles groaned as he craned his neck to scan the entire bar. "Do you see him?"**

**“Stiles,” Scott hissed. “Dude, look.” He nodded towards the table where their parents were sitting.**

**The guy was shaking hands with his dad and sitting down at their table. Stiles remembered what his dad had said before about only needing room for him, Scott and one other person. So maybe James _hadn’t_ been invited. Either way, Stiles wanted no more surprises. This was quite enough.**

**He pulled his phone out and texted his dad.**

S: Did you invite James?

**He drummed his hands on the bar as he watched his dad, waiting for him to open the message on his phone. It seemed to take him forever, but he finally did. He looked around for Stiles and then shook his head “no” when they finally made eye contact. Relief instantly flooded him.**

**Less than a minute later, his phone went off. His dad had texted him back anyway.**

SS: James moved back home eight months ago. Figured you knew.

**Stiles had to read the text about seven times before it clicked in his head. Home for James was Oregon. He moved back _home_? Stiles could feel himself growing red. James didn’t live next door to him. His stomach was in his throat, and his palms felt clammy. James’ new guy wasn’t James’ guy at all. He was just some freaking _dude_ that happened to live in James' old house. He was just some fucking guy that Stiles had nonchalantly intruded upon the other day. He was just a fucking police officer who was apparently now at his father’s birthday dinner.**

**"Fuck," Stiles whispered, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Fuck-fuck-fuck."**

**Scott looked at him in question, and then began scanning the room, probably assuming James was actually there somewhere.**

**“How opposed are you to being my D.D. tonight? I'm going to need a multitude of alcohol to make it through this," he said in monotone.**

**“That’s fine, but is everything cool? Is James here? I don't see him anywhere.”  
**

**Stiles shook his head “no”, promptly answering both questions. Then he flagged down the bartender and ordered three shots of Fireball.**

**He put his elbows on the bar and then rested his head in his hands. He pulled his fingers through his hair, stopping when he had fistfuls of it.**

**“Stiles, what’s up?” Scott asked. His voice was super concerned now.**

**Stiles held up a finger, and then continued with his strange behavior. He was slowly and painfully dying of embarrassment. The bartender brought his shots over though, so he eventually sat up.**

**“James moved,” Stiles said, staring at the bar. He took one shot. “James doesn’t live next door to us. He moved back to Oregon.” He took another shot. “That guy isn’t James’ boyfriend. He probably doesn’t even know who the hell James is.” Stiles took the last shot. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I can’t go back over to that table, Scott. Not a chance in hell.”**

**Scott did the worst thing possible. He started laughing. No, he wasn’t just laughing. Scott was cackling. “No way? Shit. I mean,” he said between laughs, “that sucks man, sorry. This is going to be one awkward dinner.”**

**“Tell me about it,” Stiles moaned, putting his forehead on the bar.**

♢♢♢

Derek definitely felt like the odd man out at a table full of couples, however, he didn’t feel at all uncomfortable. No one was having private conversations, which was nice. Everyone was a part of everything. It felt nice to be included, let alone invited. He was excited to have made it on the Sheriff’s good side so quickly.

The guys started talking about the Sheriff’s son. Apparently he was here somewhere, visiting his dad for his birthday or something.

“I just found out the best news right when you all walked in,” Sheriff Stilinski exclaimed. “Stiles moved back to Beacon Hills. Scott’s back too.”

One of the other guys from the station chuckled. “We might have to start recruiting some new blood if those two trouble-makers are back in town.” 

This made the whole table laugh. Derek finally felt slightly left out for the first time tonight, because he had no idea who the Sheriff’s son or Scott were. Everyone else seemed to though, and from the sound of it, the pair was infamous in Beacon Hills.

One of the other guys looked over to Derek. “If you have any serious cases, those two kids will know all about 'em before you even do, Hale.” 

“Great,” Derek said, forcing a laugh. He couldn’t find any humor in this conversation though. The last thing Derek needed now was drama from some kids while he was on the job. What had he done to deserve the demise of his little perfect world? 

“Stiles!” Sheriff Stilinski shouted. He was looking towards the bar. “Crap, that boy has the world’s most selective hearing.” He shook his head and then took out his phone.

All Derek could think was, _What the hell kind of name is Stiles Stilinski._

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles was avoiding his dad. He had called for him from across the place, and then texted him, telling him to come to the table to order food and say “hi” to everyone. That was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. He was not going to go anywhere near that table. He was about to convince Scott to sneak out of the bar with him when someone cleared their throat behind them. Stiles jumped so high that he nearly fell out of his chair.**

**“Holy god,” he flailed. “Let me restart my heart.”**

**It was his dad. “We ordered a bunch of appetizers and they’re at the table. Come on you two.”**

**At the mention of real food, Scott was up and nearly running to the table. _That traitor_. Stiles refused to budge, despite the growling in his stomach.**

**“Hey, Dad? Why didn’t you tell me that James moved, and that one of your guys moved in there?”**

**His dad hesitated for a moment. “Huh? How do you know that Derek's living there?”**

**Derek, eh? Stiles couldn’t even be excited about learning the guy’s name. He was still slowly self-destructing from embarrassment. “The only house we could afford was the one right next door.”**

**“Oh.” His dad sat down in Scott’s old seat. He put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Well, then isn’t it a relief that James isn’t living there anymore?”**

**“Would have been, had I known in advance.”**

**His dad rolled his eyes. “Didn’t know I would need to warn you. I had no idea you were living here, let alone in town.”**

**Stiles sighed. He needed to stop being cranky at his dad and at Scott. This was his fault and his fault alone. That being said, he still had no desire to face Derek, the neighbor that he had basically violated.**

**“Want a beer or something? My treat.” Stiles stalled. “That way we can sit over here and catch up on everything.”**

**His dad looked at him, feigning a look of shock. “How much have you had to drink? You won't let me order a cheeseburger, but you’re offering me beer?”**

**“It’s your birthday, and obviously it will be something light and preferably gluten free.”**

**His dad rolled his eyes. “Order me one at the table. We have so much time to catch up now that you’re living here, but my food is at the table and I would really like to eat it. Come on, son.”**

**Stiles sighed. There was no escaping this. He and Scott had missed their chance to sneak away. He walked slowly behind his dad, his chin tucked into his chest, staring at his feet.**  

**When they arrived back at the table, Stiles wanted to run screaming in the opposite direction. He had the worst luck imaginable. His dad had stolen a chair for Stiles and put it at the head of the table. Sitting directly across from him, at the other end, was Stiles’ sexy neighbor. He was looking from Stiles to his dad and back again. Stiles started worrying at his lip. He wished a random bolt of lightning would come out of the sky and through the ceiling to strike him. Either that, or have a random pit open up below his chair, consuming him and all of his embarrassment. Karma sure was a bitch.**

**“Good to see you, Stiles!” one of his dad’s friends said, with a smile. “I hear the dynamic duo is back to rile up some trouble.”**

**Stiles tried to laugh, but all that came out was a nervous airy breath. “Ha. Yep, back in action,” he said, looking at the table as he aimlessly played with a salt-shaker. His stomach was still empty, but his appetite was completely gone.**

**Between bites, Sheriff Stilinski said, “You know everyone here, but Derek – my Chief Deputy.”**

**“Fucking hell,” Stiles mumbled under his breath. He accidentally knocked over the salt-shaker spilling a bunch of salt in front of him. Of course this guy was his father's right hand man. Why had he even expected anything less than the worst thing freaking possible? Stiles knew he had to look up. He knew it was coming, and inevitably it was going to have to happen at some point throughout this dinner. But he was in no way prepared for it yet. He could just be rude and continue making shapes in the salt he had just spilt on the table, but his dad would say something and that would just enhance the embarrassment past** **its already unfathomable level.**

**He looked up, across the table, into eyes that were swimming with greens and browns.**

**“Nice to meet you, Stiles.” Derek said. Stiles could hear the faint undertone of sarcasm in his voice and see it glint in his expression. It almost could have gone by him unnoticed, had Stiles not been the expert of sarcasm in the flesh. He had to give it to him though, this guy was good. “You seem to look familiar, have we met somewhere before?”**

**Stiles tried not to flinch when he heard Scott choke on his soda.**

**Two could play this game. Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “Hm, you don’t seem familiar to me, but apparently we’re neighbors now. My dad must just have a bunch of pictures of me in his office or something. I mean, come on, who wouldn’t want that?”**

**“Stiles,” his dad said, laughing.**

♢♢♢

_God_ , was it completely and utterly impossible for him to catch a break?

Derek tried to remain calm as he sat directly across from the kid who broke into his house the other day. The kid that had accused him of dating some random guy, to no avail. The kid he had already imagined punching in the face on multiple occasions. Of course that kid was the Sheriff’s son. Great. Just perfect. He should have known.

Derek looked up, and almost growled. Stiles was looking at him; his eyes honey-brown balls of pure mischievousness.

“No. Must have just spotted you moving in,” he finally responded, attempting to let it all go... for now. He shrugged his shoulders and then flagged down the waitress to get his bill. _  
_


	4. annoyed

**The embarrassment from dinner had still not worn off. It had been three days, and Stiles could still feel his cheeks redden whenever he thought about breaking into his neighbor’s house. It was quickly becoming something he thought about constantly.**

**It was seriously wearing on his sanity. He would think about it before he fell asleep – sometimes it would keep him up late into the night. He would think about it in the shower, while at the store, while eating dinner. It was basically on a constant reel in his mind all day long: _I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I freaking did that. I can’t believe I did that…_**

**“Earth to Stiles?” Scott’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Helloooo?”**

**“Huh?” Stiles hadn’t even noticed Scott join him on the couch.**

**“You’re thinking about it again aren’t you?”**

**Stiles sighed and let his head fall forward into his hands. “Obviously.”**

**Scott smacked him on the shoulder. “Eh, dude, you should just forget about it. You made a mistake. Who cares?”**

**“Der- the neighbor cares.”**

**“Like I said, _who cares_? It’s over with. He’s just some random dude.”**

**Stiles sat up straight, and then dramatically threw himself backward onto the couch. “Did you not see that guy, Scott? He had ‘Stiles’ Material’ written all over him in huge, bright, flashing florescent letters.”**

**“If it’s such a big deal to you, then go over there and apologize,” Scott finally said, rolling his eyes. “Otherwise, I don’t know what to tell you.”**

**Scott got up off of the couch, and Stiles realized he was dressed up in a nice button down and jeans.**

**“Got a date or something?” Stiles joked, happy for the subject change.**

**Scott just shrugged his shoulders, and an innocent, yet somehow equally mischievous expression grew across his face. “Maybe.”**

**Finally, there was something to get his mind off of his own embarrassment. Stiles sat back up. “Spill, Scott. Who is it?”**

**“Remember that girl who was my partner for that online class, Kira?”**

**“Group projects for online classes are the most stupid, annoying, pointless-”**

**Scott cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. They suck. But do you remember?”**

**Stiles did remember. Scott had been M.I.A. for almost two weeks because of that project. He was always in his room, or hogging the desk, working on his stupid online assignment.**

**“Yeah I remember, but what does that have to do with you going on a date?”**

**Scott clenched his jaw tightly. “Maybe you’ll find out, if I ever get to finish.”**

**“Zipped it, locked it, put it in my pocket,” Stiles said, as he made the motions of zipping and locking his mouth shut.**

**“Well she kept talking to me even after the project was done. We’ve kinda been talking since.”**

**“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Stiles blurted out. Scott glared at him, so he pretended to zip his lips back up. “Sorry,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, receiving yet another glare.**

**“I never said anything because I thought we were just talking as, you know, classmates or whatever. But I found out that she lives here in Beacon Hills, so I asked her if I could take her out to dinner.”**

**Stiles sat there in silence, but he was about to burst at the seams. He had his lips pursed tightly to keep himself from talking.**

**Scott just stood there, watching Stiles with a slight smirk on his face. “Okay, now you can talk,” Scott finally said, after almost a minute of pure, torturing agony.**

**“Wait, so you are going to go meet this girl right now? Even though you’ve never seen her? She could be, like, a forty-year-old dude. You do realize that, don’t you? Have you never watched Catfish? Do you want me to go with and sit somewhere else in case this person ends up being a creep?”**

**“We Skyped, Stiles. I’m not going to get Catfished.” Scott was shaking his head.**

**Stiles took a deep breath and then let it puff out loudly. “Fine.” _Damn_ , going with would have distracted him from himself. “I’ll keep my phone on loud in case. Good luck.”**

**Scott smiled his usual big, goofy grin, and Stiles couldn’t help but smile back. Scott’s happiness was always infectious even when Stiles was all kinds of flustered.**

**Scott just didn’t know when to _not_ say certain things. “Good luck to you too, if you decide to go talk to the neighbor.” _Like that._**

**The smile slid right off of Stiles’ face.**

**“See you later tonight,” Scott sang, as he left the room.**

**Stiles heard the front door open and close. Then he was home alone, stuck with his stupid stupid thoughts that he would never let himself live down.**

**He knew he needed to go over there and apologize, but he was kind of being a sissy about it. Okay, so maybe he was nervous. What would he even say? “ _Hi. Sorry I accused you of being my ex-boyfriend’s fuck buddy. Also, sorry for breaking into your home. Your puppy is adorable and you are basically the word ‘sexy’ personified. Okay, bye._ ” Ugh. Something embarrassing like that would surely happen. He was always a good talker until he needed to be one. He could already sense that he would either get tongue-tied, or say way too much if he actually went through with apologizing.**

 

♢♢♢

Derek was finally home from a long day at work. He wanted desperately to go lounge on the sofa and just relax, but the growling in his stomach had other ideas for him. He was reaching into a cabinet to get a pot, when there was a knock on the door. His hand slipped, causing the pot to slide and knock itself into all the other pots and pans. The clamor was so loud that it woke Chevy, who started barking and howling.

“Fucking hell,” Derek muttered under his breath.

First of all, who the heck would ever knock at his side door? And second of all, who even knocked on his door in general?

He peeked out of the kitchen window quickly, to see a tall, skinny person standing at his door. The person backed away enough for their face to be revealed for a moment. It was the neighbor – the Sheriff’s son. Why had he expected to see anyone else?

Derek groaned. He was definitely not in the mood to deal with _that_. He shut the curtains before he was spotted, and snatched a pot off of the top of the pile, quickly and quietly.

Stiles knocked again, but Derek ignored him. Chevy, however, ran clumsily to the door, still yipping and barking. He sniffed at the crack of the door and then whined and started wiggling excitedly.

“Some guard dog you’re gonna be,” Derek said with a sigh. 

He set a couple cups of water to boil on the stove, and gathered all of the ingredients he needed to make dinner. This consisted of a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese, milk, and butter. This was one of his usual effortless dinners.

While he waited for the water to boil, Derek tiptoed over to the door to make sure that it was locked. It was. That kid was not going to find his way into this house ever again, if Derek had anything to do with it.

Derek ate his macaroni and cheese on the couch, in as much peace as possible with a hyper puppy using him as a jungle gym. The neighbor didn’t come back.

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles spent the rest of the night attempting to finalize lesson plans for when he started teaching. Summer was over in basically a month and a half. He tried so hard to work on this stuff, but eventually he gave up and popped in a DVD. He only lasted about twenty minutes into it before he fell asleep…**

**When the front door slammed shut, Stiles jumped awake. The menu of the movie was playing loudly, on repeat. How the hell had he slept through that? After a few seconds, Scott entered the living room with a huge smile on his face.**

**Stiles rubbed his eyes, but they were still blurry with sleep. He yawned loudly.**

**“Looks like you got a lot done,” Scott said, looking at the coffee table full of papers, and back up to a drowsy Stiles.**

**“I’m actually mostly done, hater, and I still have a month and a half to perfect it all.” Stiles pulled his legs in and made room for Scott on the couch. “You were gone forever. How was it?”**

**“We ended up going to a movie after dinner. It was great. And it was really her, not some creep, just in case you were wondering.”**

**“Good to know,” Stiles said. He wanted to go with something sarcastic, but Scott seemed really excited. He’d let the guy have this one, just once.**

**“Did you go next door?” Scott said. As he waited for a response from Stiles, he turned off the DVD player and put an actual show on.**

**Stiles groaned. “Yeah. I mean I tried to.”**

**“What does that mean?”**

**“It means, I went over there, knocked a couple of times and got ignored. Even though five minutes before, I freaking saw the guy go inside.”**

**“Wow, creeper,” Scott chuckled.**

**Stiles shot him a glare.**

**“He didn’t try very hard to be quiet either. He was very obviously inside and ignoring my existence.”**

**“Try again?” Scott suggested.**

**Stiles closed his eyes. He was already planning on trying again tomorrow; he just didn’t want to admit it.**

* * *

 

**For the next three days, Stiles waited until Derek was home from work. He would then wait for ten to fifteen minutes before walking next door and knocking. The man never answered his door. Stiles was starting to get mad. He just wanted to apologize. He had to admit that he deserved this though, he sorta did invade the guy’s privacy.**

**This was it. After today, Stiles was going to call it quits. He hated quitting – and being persistent was something he was rather good at, but he had things he needed to get done before summer was over, and all of this pointless anxiety was getting in the way. When Derek arrived home, Stiles watched the last fifteen minutes of some annoying reality show and then headed outside to go knock on the door one last time.**

**♢♢♢**

Derek was sitting at his kitchen table, resting his head in his hand. He was just waiting for it – the inevitable knock at his door. What the hell did this kid want from him? And why wouldn’t he leave him alone?

When the knock at the door echoed in the quiet house, waking Chevy, Derek pushed himself up from the chair with a sigh. He was going to answer the door. How else would he ever get that kid to leave him alone?

When Derek opened the door, the neighbor was turned around to leave. Derek cleared his throat, and the neighbor seemed to freeze in mid-step at the sound.

The kid turned around slowly, and when he was finally facing Derek, he seemed to open and close his mouth a few times like he was trying to say something but kept cutting himself off.

“Stuart, is it?” Derek asked. He remembered the kid’s name. How could he forget a name like  _Stiles_?

Stiles scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Uh. Stiles. It’s Stiles. And hi, Derek?” His voice rose in question at the end.

“Deputy Hale, actually,” Derek said in monotone. He crossed his arms over his chest tightly, hoping to look at least a little bit menacing.

“Right, yeah. Sorry,” Stiles stammered, scratching the back of his neck.

Derek just continued to stare at him. He hated to admit that he enjoyed making this kid squirm.

Stiles started talking then, really quickly, and with entirely too many flailing hand motions. “Anyway, I just came over to apologize, and to quite possibly explain myself.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, but continued to stay quiet.

“My ex used to live here, and when I would come visit, pre-ex, I would just go into his house and surprise him. That was how I caught him cheating on me. And then, Scott and I decided to move back, and the only house in our price range was this one, and we were on a time crunch. So I had to rent this place, obviously. I was going to break the news about being neighbors to James the other day, and you were home instead. And well, yeah, I’m sorry for breaking into your house, and for saying a lot of weird, confusing things to you. It won’t happen again.”

All Derek could do was stare blankly at the kid standing across from him. How did any oxygen ever make it to Stiles’ brain? Derek could have sworn that he had told the whole story in one single breath. Once Derek finally caught up, he noticed that Stiles was looking at him expectantly.

“Okay,” Derek said with a nod, taking a step back into his house.

Stiles didn’t move, he was frozen again, so Derek took another step inside and started to close the door. It was an inch away from being shut when a hand quickly grabbed onto the door, pushing it back open.

“What?” Stiles said, his voice was confused. “Okay?”

Derek just shrugged. What he really wanted to do was yet again sock this kid in the face.

“I’ve been trying to apologize for almost a week and then I do and all you say is ‘okay’?”

“That seems to be exactly what has happened,” Derek deadpanned.

Stiles pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, but then his face fell into an expressionless mask. “Looks like Deputy Hale is a fan of sarcasm.”

Just then, Chevy squeezed between Derek’s ankles and flew out the front door – tripping over his own paws. He started yipping and barking at Stiles' feet. Everything in this town was against him now, even his own fucking puppy.

“Chevy,” Derek called, his voice harsh. “Come.”

Stiles bent down and picked Chevy up, receiving licks and nips and barks from the pup. Chevy’s tail wagged happily, which did nothing to help with Derek’s rising temper.

“I don’t think your grumpy dad likes me very much, but you sure do,” Stiles cooed at Chevy. Then he put the puppy down and turned to walk away. “Have a nice night, Derek.”

Derek snatched up Chevy, who was about to try following Stiles down the pathway. “Deputy Hale,” he corrected with a grumble.

“Have a nice night, _Deputy Hale_ ,” Stiles said, with a wink.


	5. intoxicated

**Stiles was excited. It was about time that he and Scott had a house warming party. He hadn’t seen his high school friends in person for ages, and everyone was on their way back to town for the weekend. He was also extremely eager to finally meet Scott’s _friend_ , Kira (“We’re just friends, Stiles, I swear!”).**

**The house was in no way ready for company. It wasn’t a mess. Actually, it was spotless, but that was the whole problem. The lack of furniture in their house was sad. He hoped that a regulation beer-pong table would keep enough of them occupied at a time that the couch would be enough sitting room for the others.**

**He had picked up some beer and snacks, and cleaned what little clutter there was. Scott was bringing home the hard liquor, plus mixers after work. Stiles just had one job left, which he had been purposely putting off all day long: He had to go warn all of the neighbors that there might be quite a few cars parked in the neighborhood tonight.**

**He went to the houses across the street first. The neighbors took the news fine. One older woman even offered up her driveway for Stiles’ guests to use. Next he went to his neighbor’s house to the left. They praised Stiles for being so courteous and responsible. He needed to have more parties, purely because his neighbors were all so awesome.**

**He sighed when he remembered that he was skipping one neighbor. Derek. His Toyota was parked in the driveway, so Stiles headed up to the actual front door of his house. He really wanted to avoid the situation completely and just send Scott over later to do it instead, but a part of him was itching to see _Deputy Hale_.**

**Okay, so maybe he had an ulterior motive for his random act of responsibility. He just would never admit it out loud.**

**Stiles reached his hand up to knock on the door, but it flew open before he had even made contact. Stiles only noticed the confused expression on Derek’s face for about two seconds, because that was when he noticed what Derek was wearing. Stiles was in no way prepared for what was now standing in front of him. Derek Hale was in his full uniform. Even though his arms were fully covered, the tan sleeves somehow accentuated the largeness of Derek’s sculpted biceps. Stiles tried really hard to look anywhere but at Derek, but it was nearly impossible.**

**“Chevy,” Derek’s voice broke through Stiles’ thoughts.**

**A second later, the puppy was at Stiles’ feet, biting onto his pant leg and tugging at it. Stiles bent down to pick up the dog; a perfect excuse not to stare at the man standing in front of him.**

**After a few seconds of silence, Derek cleared his throat and Stiles finally looked back up.**

**“Oh right,” he said, trying not to stammer. “Scott and I are having a housewarming party tonight. Just thought I'd warn you that there might be some cars parked out on the street, and that we will try to keep the volume down to a minimum after ten o'clock.”**

**“Lovely,” Derek said, his voice laced with sarcasm.**

**Stiles tried to keep his mouth glued shut, but it was impossible. “This is also an extended invitation if you’d like to come. Everyone is getting here around 7:30 or 8:00.”**

**“What?” Derek’s voice was surprised at first, but then his tone grew sour. “I work late tonight and have an early day tomorrow, so keep it down.”**

**Stiles tried really hard not to feel the rejection that was slowly creeping over him. The last thing he wanted was for it to show on his face. There was no way that Derek was ever going to agree to coming to his housewarming party, so he needed to not even take it as a loss.**

**“Will do,” Stiles finally said. “Have a good day at work, Derek.” He received a glare instantly. “I mean Deputy Hale.”**

**Derek just nodded once, and then reached out his hands to take back Chevy.**

**“You have to go back to your grumpy dad now,” Stiles stage-whispered to the puppy, “even though we both know you would rather come home with me.”**

* * *

 

**Stiles spent the rest of the day in a fit of excited anticipation. He was so eager to see all of his friends again. By six, he had already opened a 30 pack of beer purely out of boredom. He really needed his job to start soon; summer was boring him to a new extreme.**

**At seven, there was a knock on the door, and then the sound of high heels clicking on the tile. Stiles jumped off of the couch and then nearly barreled into Lydia. His beer flew out of his hand and crashed onto the floor.**

**“Holy shit,” he said, looking down at the beer pooling on the tile. Then he looked back at Lydia and shrugged, pulling her into a hug. “I figured you would be fashionably late.”**

**“And I figured you would be drinking already. At least one of us is always right.”**

**Stiles backed away to glare at his friend, who looked at him sassily. Then he leaned back in to hug her again. “God, I've missed you.”**

**Lydia laughed and then looked down at the puddle of beer on the floor between them.**

**“Shit,” Stiles said again, with a laugh.**

**He scrambled into the kitchen and came back out with a roll of paper towels to clean up his mess. Lydia was making her way to the living room.**

**After, Stiles joined her on the couch and handed her a beer. She cracked it open, and looked at him with disdain. “You really just have a couch and a T.V.? You and Scott are such guys.”**

**Stiles shrugged. “I have a regulation beer-pong table in the garage. So there’s that also.”**

**Lydia stared at Stiles for a moment, without saying a word. Finally she just shook her head. “That doesn’t surprise me… But why isn’t it set up in here.”**

**“You want me to set it up? You wanna play?” Stiles looked at her questioningly.**

**“Let’s give it a try. We have time to kill. Also, this way I will be good at it when everyone else arrives.**

**Stiles jumped up and got the table. He set up the game in the large entryway that bled into the living room, and explained it to Lydia.**

**Of course, she was just naturally good at it, and she was kicking Stiles’ ass not even five minutes into their game. By the way this was going, he was going to be stupidly drunk before anyone else even walked through his front door.**

**“So, got any hot neighbors?” Lydia asked him, as they played.**

**Stiles froze as he was about to shoot the ball. “What? Wait, how did you know?”**

**She tilted her head and looked at him in question.**

**“Who told you about my hot neighbor? Did you see him? I thought he was at work right now.”**

**“Uh, nobody, Stiles. I was just asking if you have one. You know, new neighborhood, new people for you to harass and what not.”**

**“Oh, right.” Stiles silently cursed the beers he had consumed. “Well, in fact, I do have a really hot neighbor, who I actually invited to come tonight after he gets off duty.” Stiles was not going to mention the fact that there was not even the slightest chance in hell that Derek would actually show up.**

**Lydia put her head in her hands. “Duty? Please don't tell me you relapsed with James. Please, no.”**

**“He moved back home. But his old house is actually next door, and also where Chief Deputy Hottie lives now.”**

**“Oh, Stiles,” she said, sinking her ping-pong ball into his last cup, and winning the game. “Just please don’t call him that when he comes over.”**

**Stiles was in the middle of glaring at her, and finishing all of the beer he now had to drink as a consequence for losing, when someone knocked at the door. He opened it up to see Allison standing there, hand in hand with Isaac. Walking up the walkway behind them was Danny. Stiles let everyone in, only after receiving a hug from each of them, and then showed everyone to the food and drinks. Lydia and Allison were already hogging the couch, chattering away, so the guys congregated in the kitchen, all eating food straight off of the serving plates and drinking beer.**

**Scott arrived with Kira not long after, and he was attacked with hugs from all sides.**

**While everyone was bombarding Scott, Stiles walked over to Kira and shook her hand.**

**“I’m Scott’s roommate and best friend extraordinaire.”**

**“Hi, Stiles,” she said. “Scott talks about you a lot.”**

**“I’m just glad to see that you aren’t a forty year old man. I thought you might be Catfishing our poor, naive Scottyboy.”**

**Right then, Scott walked up and shoved his hand over Stiles’ mouth. “Don’t listen to him, he’s probably been drinking since this morning.”**

**Stiles wrestled himself free and stuck his tongue out at Scott like a little kid. Kira was cracking up, and Scott was turning red. “I only started a few hours ago, so ha.”**

**“But then he lost to me at beer-pong. It was my first time ever playing,” Lydia called from the other side of the kitchen. Stiles gave her the stink eye and she just smiled, flipped her hair and walked back into the living room, beer in hand.**

**Stiles was glad to see everyone falling back into the easy, happy comfortableness of their friendship. Everyone welcomed Kira into the group with open arms, and she seemed to be just as weird as they were. Stiles had to admit that he liked her. He would tell Scott he approved later.**

**After everyone was a few drinks and/or several shots in, and Stiles a few drinks more than that, he ran into his room and brought out a small white-board that he had hanging on his wall. He erased all of his notes off of it and started devising teams for a bracketed beer-pong tournament.**

**Everyone made teams, and Stiles realized that he was the odd man out.**

**When Stiles started to complain, Lydia interrupted him. “When your hot neighbor friend comes over, he can be your partner. Perfect!”**

**At that, the room went silent. Stiles’ expression slowly morphed into one of pure mortification. Scott started snickering quietly.**

**Stiles ran over to smack Scott on the shoulder, but he hid behind Kira.**

**“I hate all of you,” Stiles said. “I will be my own partner, and I will kick all of your asses.”**

**"Not playing like you did earlier," Lydia said. She was laughing, but when Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, she didn’t say anything else.**

**“You really invited him?” Scott asked, as Lydia and Danny were setting up a game to play against Allison and Isaac.**

**Stiles just nodded. He didn’t want this to be a big deal, because now he was going to be embarrassed when Derek didn’t actually show up. He shouldn’t have said anything about inviting him to Lydia in the first place.**

**“Think he’s going to come? I thought he hated you.”  
**

**“Thanks for _that_ ,” Stiles said, sadly. Scott instantly looked sorry. “He’s not coming.”**

**Stiles tried his hardest to push all of that out of his mind, and to let himself have a fun night of drinking with his most favorite people.**

♢♢♢

Derek got home from work to quite a few cars parked along the street, but not even a quarter as many as he had been expecting to see. He pulled into his house, nearly hitting the back end of a car that was parked very close to blocking part of his driveway. He rolled his eyes. His annoyance instantly returned.

He got out of his car, and didn’t even bother to go inside and change. He just marched right through his yard and up to the neighbor’s door. He knocked loudly.

As he waited for someone to come to the door, he was surprised by how quiet the house was. He was prepared for loud music that rattled windows, and people drunk in the front yard.

He saw a face quickly peek out of the blinds and then a voice yell, “Shit. Hey dude, it’s the cops. Or, did someone call a stripper?” 

After a minute, Stiles’ face was peeking through the curtains. When he noticed Derek, the worried expression on his face grew into a smile, and then he disappeared. The door opened then, and Stiles was standing there, a red cup in his hand. 

“Deputy Derek, I mean Derek Hale. Shit. Deputy Hale. You came!”

Then Stiles was stepping to the side and motioning for Derek to come inside. Even though Derek was telling himself to stand his ground, his feet seemed to move on their own accord, and soon enough he was inside Stiles’ house. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come, honestly,” Stiles said, excitement obviously full in his voice. 

“Actually, I, uh, I came because someone is parked blocking my driveway. Black Honda. I almost hit it pulling in.”

Stiles’ face fell, and Derek couldn't help but feel slightly bad. “Oh,” he said, solemnly. Then he seemed to spark back to life, halfheartedly. “You could move it if you want, but I’m not letting any one of us get behind the wheel tonight, even if it is to just move a car up a foot. Mr. Grumpy-Cop might arrest them.” Then he winked.

He ignored the wink. At least this Stilinski kid was responsible, he could give him that much. As for the Grumpy-Cop comment, Derek sighed dramatically. “Fair enough. I'll _try_ not to hit it in the morning.” 

Stiles nodded. Derek brushed past him quickly and let himself out, back into the cool night air. 

When he got inside his own house, he put food in Chevy’s bowl. The puppy was passed out. He hopped in the shower and then after, sat down on the couch in some boxers and started flipping through channels. There was nothing on T.V. He got up, got a snack, and then sat back down. A few minutes later he got up again and got a drink. He was antsy and bored – a somewhat new feeling for him. Typically, he was perfectly content to just hang around his house alone.

He got up again and went into his room. He put on some jeans and a t-shirt and then returned to the living room to find Chevy sitting by an empty dish. He picked up the puppy and then walked out front, setting him down in the yard to do his business. Afterward, before he could stop himself, he started making his way back next door. He could enjoy the company of people for a few hours. That wasn't a crime. And they seemed to be having a somewhat mellow night. It could be just what he needed to wind down.

A redhead answered the door this time. Stiles was right behind her. Confusion covered his face when he noticed that it was Derek who was at the door.

“So you must be the hot neighbor then,” the redhead said with a smile. She let Derek walk inside. “Oh, and you brought a puppy? Swoon.”

Derek glanced at Stiles who was glaring at the redhead. It looked like he was trying to be subtle, but he was anything but that as he glared, lips pursed and nostrils flaring, at her.

Stiles composed his features quickly and then cleared his throat. “Deputy Hale, Lydia. Lydia, Deputy Hale.” He took Chevy out of Derek’s hands without a word, and then he turned quickly away and headed into another room, leaving Derek with Lydia.

“Stiles was right. I’ll give it to him this time,” she said with a wink. Then she walked over to the whiteboard. “Looks like we’re back up, Danny,” she called. Then she yelled, “Stiles, get your skinny ass back in here.”

Stiles walked in with another guy, who Derek assumed to be Danny. 

“They have Chevy in the living room. He’s safe,” Stiles said. Then he glanced quickly away from Derek. “What?” he asked Lydia.

Lydia smiled at both Stiles and Danny. “We're back up, and we're playing you, Stiles. But now it'll be fair since you finally have a teammate.”

“What?” Derek asked. He was still standing awkwardly by the front door, his hands now pushed deeply into his pockets.

“Beer-pong. You and Stiles are on a team, and we are playing you right now.”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder and gave Derek a look that he could only assume meant: _I’m sorry_.

This was a bad idea. Derek was not about to play some ridiculous drinking game at his obnoxious neighbor’s party. Why was he even over there in the first place? He had to be going insane or something.

Even though his brain was telling him to go back home, he walked towards the game set up and looked only at Lydia. “I don’t really know how to play.” He was lying. He had played before, but it had been so long ago, he probably wouldn’t remember any of the rules now.

“Either way, you’ll be better than Stiles, and you might even save him from losing another game.”

“Or at least from losing really bad again.” Danny said. He and Lydia laughed. Derek could feel Stiles growing tense beside him.

“Stiles didn’t make anything his last game and had to sit under the table during the next game. Want to see a picture?” Lydia held out her phone, displaying a picture of Stiles slouched underneath the table, a full cup of beer in each hand. He was full-out pouting.

Derek couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles growled from across the table. “Why are you so annoying?”

Lydia smiled. “It’s my job. You’re like the little brother I never had,” she cooed at him.

“Well, you’re the big sister that I never wanted!” Stiles hissed.

Lydia smiled snidely at him from across the long table. “Lies. You love me.”

That was when Stiles rolled his eyes and then started to drunkenly explain the rules of beer-pong to Derek. He was speaking a mile a minute, and five times louder than necessary. Also, the amount of flailing he was doing was making Derek feel tired for him.

“I got it, I got it,” Derek interrupted, cutting him off. “I remember now.” He was mostly just trying to get the kid to stop yelling rules way too loudly in his face.

Right off the bat, Derek ended up having to drink. The other ping-pong ball bounced behind him, and under a little table in the entryway. Derek turned to go retrieve it, but Stiles was already half-running after it.

“I’ll get it,” he called. He squatted down to get the ball. Then he stood up, hitting his head on the table on his way up. “Holy, ow!”

Everyone was giggling after that. Even Derek found a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t want to encourage Stiles’ drinking any further though. And more so, he didn’t want to give this annoying kid the credit of making him smile.

Lydia scored another cup, and Stiles swore loudly. “Ugh,” he moaned, grabbing the cup of beer that he now had to drink.

Stiles needed to be done. The kid was not far from passing out. Derek grabbed the cup out of his hand and drank it quickly. “I’ll just drink for both of us,” he mumbled under his breath, hoping only Stiles would hear.

Relief flashed across Stiles’ face for a moment, but then it was gone. “You don’t have to do that,” he said, hiccuping at the end.

Derek shook his head, and kept playing. "I gotta catch up, anyway."

Needless to say, Stiles let Derek drink for him for the rest of the game.

At the end, they were down to a tied game. Each only having one cup left. Lydia and Danny were equally as good, but Derek had to admit that he was carrying his team pretty damn well. Stiles was pretty much out as a teammate now. Halfway through the game he had run down the hall, returning after some loud crashes, pushing a desk chair in front of him. He was now sitting in it half asleep, waking up to take his turns halfheartedly, never leaving the chair.

“So what happens if we win?” Derek asked.

“Another team will play you. I think Allison and Isaac are up next,” the guy Danny said. “Although from the looks of it, you’re going to have to play as a team of one.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles grumbled from the chair. Derek looked over to notice that Stiles’ eyes were still shut. He had scooted the chair next to the wall to rest his head on it.

It was their turn. Stiles sat up a little to shoot the ball. It went into the living room. Derek missed on purpose, because the last thing he wanted to do tonight was get stuck playing countless games of beer-pong with a drunk kid passed out in a computer chair as a partner.

Lydia and Danny ended up winning. “That was a good game,” Lydia said. “Finally some actual competition.”

“I hate you,” Stiles slurred. "I love you, but I hate you." How was that kid not passed out yet?

Just then, Chevy, who had been sleeping in a ball on the couch the whole time, bounded clumsily into the room, a ping-pong ball in his mouth. He ran straight to Stiles and scratched at his legs.

Stiles’ eyes shot open, and he flinched so violently that the chair scooted backwards about a foot. Then he looked down and saw the puppy. He smiled hugely and bent to pick him up. When Chevy was on his lap, Stiles leaned his head back onto the wall and closed his eyes. Chevy fell asleep, too.

“If that doesn't melt your heart, I don't know what would.” Lydia was standing at his side now, looking at Stiles and the puppy and then back to Derek.

Derek’s mouth fell into a straight line. Had he been smiling? Worse yet. Had he been caught?

“Just thinking about how adorable my puppy is,” he said, after hesitating a moment.

“Right,” Lydia said, just a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Then she winked at Derek and went into the living room.

Fuck. He needed to stop drinking right now.

Derek looked at Stiles and Chevy again, and felt his mouth twitch a little at the corners. Then he rolled his eyes. What were they supposed to do with this kid?

Derek walked out into the living room. “Scott?” he asked. When he got Scott’s attention, he motioned for him to come into the entryway where the table was set up. “What should we do with Stiles?”

Scott glanced over and chuckled. “He can never hang, but only because he drinks too much, too fast. It’s all about pacing yourself!”

Derek rolled his eyes. He was getting too old for this whole dealing-with-drunk-people business. “Stiles. What should we do with him?”

“Oh right. Just leave him there. He can literally fall asleep anywhere. Floor, stairs, bathtub, you name it. He'll be fine.” Then Scott walked back into the other room.

He looked back to Stiles and sighed. He was annoyed now, but he didn’t have the heart to leave Stiles there, sleeping on a swivel chair. He would be sure to fall out of it at some point, and even though the kid broke into Derek’s house, and drove him insane, Derek didn’t want him to end up with stitches or a concussion when it all could have been easily prevented.

He walked over and shook Stiles’ shoulder. “Stiles, hey.”

“Sleep,” he mumbled, but otherwise didn’t move.

Derek sighed. Then he went to the backside of the chair and started pulling it down the hall. As he passed by the living room, everyone started giggling.

“Such a gentleman,” Lydia sighed.

“Which one is his room,” Derek asked.

“Second door on the right,” Scott called.

Derek pushed the chair into the dark room, and flicked on the light. He was surprised to find himself in a room that actually looked lived in, unlike the rest of the house. There were posters on the walls, and pictures on the dresser.

He shook Stiles again. “Hey, wake up and go to bed." 

“Am already. Sleep.”

Derek almost growled. He was ready to just leave Stiles in the stupid fucking chair.

“Get up and go to sleep in your _own bed_ ,” Derek hissed. 

Stiles squinted his eyes and started to stand up then, with Chevy still asleep in his lap. Derek had to jump forward and grab the puppy nearly out of the air. 

Stiles’ eyes opened wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Holy shit. Oops.” He stepped forward and pet Chevy on the head. He put his face right up next to the puppy and whispered, “Sorry little guy, Stiles is too drunk to function right now.” Chevy licked his cheek and barked.

Derek was still looking down at Chevy, and he was _not smiling_. When he looked back up, Stiles had already made his way over to his bed and curled up into a ball under the blankets. Derek walked out, shutting off the light on his way.

He thanked them all for having him over. He was tempted to clean some of the mess, but he was also finally starting to feel the tiredness of his long workday. Scott walked him to the front door so that he could lock it afterward.

“Thanks for coming tonight. You probably made Stiles’ entire life,” Scott said. Then he shut the door.

“Shit,” Derek whispered under his breath as he started walking back home.


	6. defended

**Stiles woke up the next day with an incessant pounding in his head. His mouth was dry, and his stomach felt hollow. He gingerly inched himself up on his pillows, and tried to sit up slowly. He had been ridiculously hungover before, and he didn’t want to take any chances by moving too quickly.**

**Eventually, he got out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt, and then changed out of his jeans and into pajama pants. Then he went out into the living room. Everyone was awake, sitting on the couch or on the floor eating breakfast food, even though it was noon. The room smelled like eggs and bacon and heaven. Stiles’ stomach growled loudly.**

**"Fuck yes," he sighed, breathing in the delicious smell.**

**“Good morning, beer-pong champion,” Isaac said. Everyone in the room chuckled.**

**Stiles glowered in the general direction of Isaac’s voice to encompass everyone who laughed into his collective glare. Then he walked into the kitchen. Scott, Kira, and Lydia were sitting on folding camp chairs at the beer-pong table, eating. Scott and Kira were sharing a chair, while Lydia sat on her own.**

**“Did you have better luck with your sexy cop friend last night than you did with your beer-pong endeavors?” Lydia asked.**

**“Huh?” Stiles asked. Then his eyes grew into giant O’s as he remembered Derek showing up. That was basically _all_ he remembered though. Derek had stopped by, left, and then came back. Everything else was just one hazy, drunken blur. He could feel his cheeks turning red.**

**“Oh, Stiles,” Lydia said. She made room on her chair for him, and then patted the spot.**

**Stiles sluggishly grabbed himself a plate of food, and then sat down next to her.**

**“Did I do anything embarrassing?" He shivered as he spoke, thinking of the endless shenanigans and antics that his drunken alter ego could have gotten into. And with Deputy Hale in the same room. He rolled his eyes at himself. "You know what? Let me rephrase. What embarrassing things did drunk Stiles do?”**

**The three others stayed quiet.**

**“Come on, guys. The silence is freaking me out. What did I do? Was it _that_ bad?”**

**Lydia cleared her throat before she started talking. Her tone was instantly apologetic, which made Stiles nervous. “ _I_ might have embarrassed you more than _you_ embarrassed yourself, to be honest.”**

**Stiles was scared to ask, but still, he needed to know. "How so?"**

**“Well, if you would have told me the actual story about him, things would've played out differently. I wouldn't have reacted the way I did when he came over, and I definitely wouldn't have called him ‘the hot neighbor’ to his face.” Lydia looked sheepishly at Stiles. “I’m sorry, really, but you had me thinking things were different. I had no idea that you were on his bad side. Scott had to fill me in this morning.”**

**Stiles pushed his still full plate away and then pressed his head down onto the table. “It’s okay. My fault. Just tell me what I did.”**

**Scott relayed the story: Stiles hitting his head on the table, falling asleep on the computer chair during the game, and then about Derek taking Stiles to his room in said chair.**

**Stiles groaned - his sound muffled by the tabletop. His life was becoming one hugely embarrassing moment after another.**

**"Hey, at least you didn't say anything incriminating," Lydia said, rubbing Stiles' back.**

**"Yeah, your motormouth was awfully quiet once the neighbor got here." Scott added.**

**Even Kira piped up with, "I bet the drunk you was trying really hard to act sober so that you wouldn't say anything embarrassing."**

**Stiles looked up at her slowly. "I don't know if the drunk me _or_ the sober me is that smart."**

**Kira just shrugged, a smile on her face. "The neighbor didn't seem to mind, either way."**

**"Just let it go," Scott said, his tone overly positive. "I'm sure Deputy Hale didn't care." Kira looked at Scott, her smile growing.**

**"Ugh," Stiles growled. He looked at Lydia. "I really didn't say anything? Please don't omit anything 'for my better interest' or something dumb."**

**Lydia shook her head. "I actually thought he was into you all night. I was surprised to hear the real story."**

**This muddled up Stiles' thoughts. He was teetering on the edge of extreme, full-fledged embarrassment, but the comment made him take a step back. He was just going to have to face the fact that he had been a drunken mess, yet somehow kept his giant mouth shut for the most part. Lydia had been drinking almost as long as he had been, so he tried to brush off her comment about Derek being _fond of him_. Lydia could handle her liquor better than him though, which Stiles would never give her credit for out loud. He added the whole situation to the growing list of things to keep him up at night.**

**Stiles tried to ignore his thoughts as he finally ate breakfast, and drank copious amounts of water. Then they all squeezed onto the couch, or onto the floor in front of it, and watched a movie. Stiles fell asleep almost instantly, squishing Lydia into the corner of the couch…**

**He jolted awake, his hands flailing in front of his face. Lydia’s laughter filled his head, and he turned towards the sound.**

**“Sorry,” she laughed. “We’re all heading out, so I woke you up.”**

**“What?” Stiles’ voice came out sad. Everyone was leaving already? He looked at the cable box to see that it was four thirty in the afternoon.**

**He and Scott walked everyone out, said their goodbyes, and then went back inside.**

**“I’m picking up Kira for dinner in an hour, so I’m gonna go shower and stuff,” Scott said, as he was picking up some cans from the kitchen counter. "We can clean this crap up tomorrow."**

**Stiles was leaning against the wall. He wanted to go back to sleep. “An hour apart? How will you two ever survive?”**

**Scott rolled his eyes. “Go back to bed, cranky.”**

**“Good idea,” Stiles said. “Have fun at dinner. Bring me something back.”**

♢♢♢

Derek had slept in an extra thirty minutes that morning, and had left his house in haste. From the moment he had arrived at the station - still ten minutes early - his mind had been preoccupied with a gnawing fear that he had left his side door unlocked. He only had another hour and a half left of work, but he had been gone all day, and a lot could have happened to his home in that amount of time. Especially with a house full of twenty-somethings right next door to him. Specifically one who seemed to have a knack for unlawful entry.

Stiles.

"Has Stiles been giving you any trouble?" the Sheriff's voice cut through his worrying thoughts. 

"Huh?" Derek was caught off guard. His head shot upward quickly to see the Sheriff leaning in the doorway.

"Stiles, my son. Is he giving you any trouble? He's your neighbor isn't he? I lived with that boy for the first eighteen years of his life. I know how he can be."

Derek thought about Stiles breaking into his house. He thought about how worried he was that it could potentially be happening again. He thought about Stiles passed out in the computer chair with Chevy in his lap the night before, and the party that he had been invited to.

Derek shook his head. "Nope, haven't seen much of him or his friend, besides yesterday when he warned the entire neighborhood that he was having a housewarming party."

"Crap," the Sheriff mumbled. He covered his face with both hands. 

Derek was quick to answer. "No, no, no. It wasn't bad at all. He warned everyone, but then only had a few people over. I couldn't even tell anyone was there when I got home from work." Why was he defending Stiles? He shut his mouth before he could say anything else weird.

The Sheriff's face softened. "Maybe his manners are improving with age. We can only hope."

Then he walked out, leaving Derek to his paperwork, but mostly leaving Derek to his thoughts.

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles had tried to go back to sleep, but he was too antsy, thinking about what few details he had of the night before. He was embarrassed to say the least, and now he needed to make up yet another thing to Derek.**

**He didn’t know what to do, but he did know for a fact that he wasn't ready to face Derek in person. Stiles popped his head out of the front door to see that the Toyota was missing from the driveway. Perfect.**

**Stiles decided to bake something. Cookies, because he could make those quick, hopefully before Derek got home. He made a batch of peanut butter cookies and put them in the oven. Every few minutes he would go outside to check that Derek was still gone.**

**When the batch was finished, he let them cool for half the time that he probably should have, and then put them onto a plate. He left one on the cooling tray for himself, and then wrapped up the others.**

**As quickly as his hungover self could go, he walked to Derek’s house. Without even realizing what he was doing, he put his hand on the doorknob of the side door and turned it. It opened, and then he realized just what he had done.**

**“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He hated that he was such a creature of habit. He, honestly, originally had every intention of just leaving the cookies on the doorstep.**

**Chevy started barking, but the barks turned to happy whines when he spotted Stiles standing in the doorway.**

**Stiles sighed and then walked in. He placed the cookies on the counter, and then found a piece of paper and a pen in a drawer. He scribbled a note quickly and then ran back to the door. He locked the lock from the inside and then exited the house. He was about to shut the door when he looked down at Chevy. Puppy-dog eyes were even more powerful when they came from a real puppy.**

**“Fuck,” Stiles grumbled. He ran back into the house, scribbled something else onto the paper and then picked up Chevy and walked out  - the now-locked door closing behind him.**

**“Your dad is going to have me arrested,” Stiles said to the puppy once he was safely in his own house. “So I might as well cuddle with a cute puppy before they take me away.”**

**He brought a cushion from the couch into the kitchen and placed it on the floor for Chevy. Then he set to baking a second batch of cookies. This time he made chocolate chip. He put extra chocolate chips in them, because these cookies were now going to have to atone for breaking in _and_ stealing a puppy.**

**When the cookies were done and wrapped up, Stiles took Chevy into the other room, and put him on the couch. He curled up on top of Stiles’ feet.**

**♢♢♢**

Derek got home and checked both doors before entering his house. They were both locked. Relief fell over him instantly. He entered from the side door, and went into the kitchen.

On the counter was a plate of cookies that had definitely not been there when he had left for work that morning. He could feel his face reddening in anger. He approached the counter to find a piece of paper trapped halfway under the plate. His own stationary. He picked it up and attempted to read the rough scrawl.

 

**Here are some cookies for last night.**

**Sorry about that, and t** **hanks for making sure I got to bed.**

**I’m also making you more cookies now, because I broke into your house again.**

**It was an accident. Old habits die hard.**

**Oh, I also have Chevy because he looked sad. Don't hate me.**

**-Stiles**

Derek tried to feel mad as he read the note, but the smells of peanut buttery goodness wafting in the air made it extremely difficult. He removed the plastic wrap off of the plate and ate a cookie.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His anger all but diminished. He ate another one. Then he tried exceptionally hard to remind himself that Stiles had broken into his home yet again. And this time, he had stolen Derek’s dog.

He let his expression harden, and then he marched over to Stiles’ house. He knocked, but there was no answer. He told himself not to do it ten times over in his head, but he ignored his better judgment and tired the door. It was unlocked. He hated himself as he let himself into the house. He was going to walk straight to Stiles’ room, when something caught his eye. Stiles was fast asleep on the couch, and so was Chevy, curled in a ball at Stiles’ feet. Derek could feel his face softening, a smile tickling at his lips. He sighed and then walked into the kitchen. He found an old receipt and left Stiles a note. On his way out, he took the plastic wrapped plate of chocolate chip cookies that were sitting on the counter.

He did, however, leave Chevy there, after returning quietly to drop off his food and dishes.

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles awoke to Scott shaking his shoulder roughly. “Dude, wake up.”  
**

**He rubbed his eyes over and over until he could kind of make out his friend’s features. “What’s up?” He turned slightly and squinted his eyes at the cable box. It was one in the morning.**

**“Two questions. One, why is that puppy here? And two, why does the kitchen look even worse than it did when I left?”**

**Stiles jolted awake. Chevy was running around on the tile floor, chewing on Stiles’ shoe. He didn’t have the energy or the motivation to scold the puppy. “It’s kind of a funny story,” Stiles started. “I made cookies to make up for being embarrassing last night and then nonsense ensued.”**

**Scott just looked at him, waiting for more information. Stiles was still trying to come back to life; he yawned hugely. He cursed himself for falling asleep though. Derek had probably come earlier to pick up the puppy.**

**“Tell me tomorrow,” Scott finally said, around a yawn. “Oh, and this was on the counter?” He tossed a folded receipt onto Stiles’ lap before he left the room.**

**Stiles’ name was written neatly on the front of the paper, above the grocery store logo. He unfolded it and then read the note:**

Took the cookies. I expect Chevy back tomorrow night at six.

Derek

 

**Stiles couldn’t get over the fact that One: Derek Hale had come into his house while he had been asleep, Two: he had given Stiles custody of Chevy until the next night, and Three: he had signed the note as Derek, not Deputy Hale.**

**Stiles went into the kitchen to get some water for himself and for Chevy. On the counter was a bag of puppy food and two dishes. Stiles tried not to smile, but it didn’t work.**


	7. embarrassed

**Watching Chevy while Derek was at work had become like a mini summer job for Stiles. He would answer the door almost every morning, still half asleep, hair askew and eyes blurry, to take the puppy from Derek’s arms. In the evenings, he would bring Chevy back home. Stiles would always attempt to spark up conversations, but they would continuously fizzle into awkward silences and the clearing of throats.**

**Time had quickly closed in on him. It was finally his last day of summer vacation. He had been spending odd hours of the past week preparing his classroom (he would sneak Chevy along). Everything seemed to be in order, but he couldn’t be anything but nervous. He would send himself spiraling downward into a fit of anxiety if he even just thought about the next morning too hard.**

**It was about five when Chevy started whining. Stiles went into the kitchen to get the dog some dinner when he realized that Derek had forgotten to bring the food with him earlier that day.**

**“Crap,” Stiles sighed. He put a leash on Chevy and then walked next door. He was happy for something to do that didn’t involve sitting in his room freaking out about the next day. He tried both doors, but they were locked. As he peered into a window, he noticed a doggy-door that let out into the backyard. It definitely looked large enough for him to fit through if he angled himself just right.**

**He knew he could just get in his car and go buy some dog food at the store, but this was just simpler... and free. It was also illegal, but what Derek didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.**

**He easily got into Derek’s backyard – the gate was unlocked – and then tested the back door just to be sure. It was locked. He then sized up the doggy-door. He decided that if he angled his shoulders, he would be able to get through no problem. He took Chevy off of his leash and the pup ran out into the yard, distracted by something. Stiles got down on the ground and started to push himself through the small door.**

**After a couple of seconds, Chevy was barking and jumping and biting on Stiles’ feet.**

**“Cut it out, Chev,” Stiles said, laughing as he turned his shoulders just right. He pushed himself forward and then realized he wasn’t going anywhere.**

**“Shit,” Stiles said, panic lacing his voice. His stomach churned. “Shit-shit-shit.”**

**He tried to push himself backwards, back into the yard, but he was absolutely stuck – his head and arms inside Derek’s house, the rest of him outside being attacked by Chevy.**

**He could already feel the metal frame digging bruises into his back and arms. Worse yet, he could sense the years and years of embarrassment that he was sure to never let himself live down thanks to this moment.**

**He took a deep breath. Derek wasn’t due home for another hour and a half, so he had a good chunk of time to work himself out of the horrendous situation. He needed to remain calm, and not give up hope just yet.**

♢♢♢

It was the most boring day at the station that Derek had ever experienced. They hadn’t received any calls all morning or afternoon. Derek had been sent to organize paperwork, which he had since reorganized several more times out of pure boredom.

Sheriff Stilinski came into the room and sighed loudly, catching Derek’s attention.

“Go home,” Stilinski said, a smile on his face.

“Sir, it’s really okay I - ”

“Get out of here and go do something fun,” he said. “That is an order.”

All right, Sheriff,” Derek said, with a nod, although he couldn’t make any promises about the _fun_ part. "Thanks."

He was excited to head home, that antsy feeling had been getting the best of him all day. Maybe he just needed to go for a run and then take a nice hot shower to get the giddiness out of his system.

When he got home he didn't even go inside. Instead, he walked next door to pick up Chevy from Stiles. Even after almost a month and a half of the arrangement, he was still picking fights with himself over it. Why the hell was he even doing it? His only logical explanation was that Chevy deserved more attention than he had been receiving before Stiles started watching him. It was all for Chevy. One-hundred-and-ten percent.

He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He tried the handle, and it was unlocked. He opened it, but didn’t go inside. He just called for Stiles through the opening. When he didn’t get an answer, he sighed and then shut the door. Stiles was probably taking a nap, or walking Chevy. He went back home and unlocked his side door.

“Fuck,” he heard a voice whisper, right as he was about to take a step into his house.

“What the hell, Stiles. Are you in my house?” Derek growled from the entryway. He started walking towards the voice he had heard - his family room turned office. “Just because I’m letting you watch my dog doesn’t mean you can just - ”

Derek had to stop talking because he had pretty much started choking on his words. Stiles was halfway inside his house, stuck past his shoulders in the doggy-door. Derek took one long look at Stiles’ mortified yet pained expression and laughed. He couldn’t stop himself. Stiles’ frown deepened impossibly more at that, and Derek’s stomach started to hurt. He couldn’t stop cracking up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

“ _Don’t you_ _fucking dare_ ,” Stiles hissed. 

Derek just smirked at him. “Can’t really stop me now, can you?”

Stiles covered up his face with his hands, but it was too late. The picture had been snapped right before, catching Stiles’ anger ridden expression in perfect clarity.

Derek laughed again.

“Yet another thing I’ll have to add to _The Collection of Embarrassing Moments in the Life of Stiles Stilinski_ ,” Stiles groaned in an irritated tone.

Derek was still recovering from laughter. “This one will go great with that one of you sitting under the table at your party. Send it to your friend, Lydia.”

“What?” Stiles asked. His expression was confused for a moment, but then anger crossed him again. “Forget it. Just get me the hell out of this death trap.”

Derek walked over to the back door, unlocked it, and let Chevy inside the house. The puppy was excited to see Derek for a few seconds, but then he spotted Stiles virtually sticking out of the wall. He ran over and started licking Stiles’ face.

“Ugh!” Stiles cried.

“Why should I help you out? You were trying to break into my house. _Again_ , might I add.”

Stiles had his hands over his face now, so his voice was muffled. “I tried to break in because _you_ forgot to bring over _your_ dog’s food. I wasn’t about to let him starve. And desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“You couldn’t have just gone to the store?”

“I couldn’t remember what kind of food you buy." Stiles was lying. Derek knew a bluff when he saw one. “I didn’t want to buy something different. You aren’t supposed to change your dog’s food on them, you know?”

Derek just turned away and walked out of the room, a small smile on his lips.

“Where the hell are you going? My whole body is starting to freaking fall asleep.”

“Feeding my dog,” Derek called from the other room. He had to take a moment to compose himself. He was still laughing. He hadn’t laughed like this since… well he couldn’t really recall a time. He also just wanted to torture Stiles a bit longer, for humor’s sake.

“ _I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves_ ,” Stiles started singing loudly, “ _everybody’s nerves, everybody’s nerves. I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves and this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on_ \- ”

The song continued and continued, and Derek tried his best to drown it out, even though it was doing just what the lyrics promised. It was getting on his nerves.

After a few more minutes, he walked into the room and stood there. Stiles stopped singing and took a deep breath.

“You do realize that if you don’t help me get out of here, I’m going to be stuck as part of your house forever. Like a fucking trophy. And I will gladly sing this song forever and ever until I die. Then I will proceed to haunt the shit out of you for the rest of your life. And you better believe my ghost will be a bigger pain in the ass than I am."

Derek just stood there. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, and tried to keep a straight face. 

“I start teaching tomorrow. How am I supposed to mold the young minds of America if I am stuck in your wall.” His voice was whiny. “Think of the children, Deputy Hale.”

Derek sighed and walked over to the back door. Before he went outside, he looked down at Stiles. “I’m only doing this because you actually called me Deputy Hale without being condescending. I really should 'think of the children' though and leave you trapped, because the fact that you – a person who is currently stuck in the doggy-door of someone else’s home – are going to be teaching young children, legitimately worries me.”

Then he walked out and crouched down by Stiles’ legs.

“Refraining from all sarcastic comments until I am successfully freed,” Stiles called to Derek.

“Probably for the best,” Derek said. Then he grabbed tightly onto Stiles’ ankles. “When I say go, let out all your air and I’m going to pull you out. Okay, go.”

He pulled Stiles towards himself, and after a few seconds Derek fell backwards slightly as Stiles was pulled free.

“Holy god,” Stiles said. He rolled over on his back and just lied there, rubbing at the two huge red indents on his arms. 

“Learn your lesson on unlawful entry yet?” Derek asked, standing and brushing himself off.

Stiles glared up at him. “This time it was for the greater good, so don’t even give me that.”

Then Derek did something that he honestly had no control over. He reached a hand down for Stiles, to help him up. Stiles grasped his hand strongly, and let Derek pull him upward. Once he was standing, he had to walk over and lean up against the side of the house.

“Head rush,” he said, grabbing his head in his hands. “Woah.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Derek asked. All of the previous emotions in his voice had been wiped clean with anxiety.

Stiles shook his head no, but he turned around so that his forehead was now resting on the side of the house, his arms dangling at his sides. He started taking deep breaths in and out.

After about a minute, he turned and looked sheepishly at Derek. “Sorry, that got me really dizzy.”

“Need to sit?” Derek asked again.

“Nah, I think I’m good now. I probably just need some Advil.” He rubbed at his red arms.

“I have some inside,” Derek offered. Then he kicked himself internally for doing just that. He could swear that both his body and mind were working against him.

Stiles just nodded, and then followed Derek inside. He took a seat at the kitchen table – the same chair Derek had found him in the first time he had broken into Derek’s home.

Derek left the room and found some Advil. Then he got a bottle of water from the fridge and placed both in front of Stiles. He took the chair across from him.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, after downing half the bottle of water and some medicine. “And sorry.”

Derek shrugged. He had gotten a good laugh out of it to say the least. “Like you said: this time it was for the greater good.”

Stiles smiled slightly at that, but then his face was serious. “Can I see the picture?”

Derek found it on his phone and held it up from across the table. Stiles squinted his eyes at it and frowned.

“Can I look at it close up?”

“Not a chance,” Derek said, putting the phone back into his pocket. “You’ll delete it.”

“Send it to me then,” he said, his voice almost taunting.

“I’m not exactly sure that I trust you with my number.”

Stiles rolled his eyes so dramatically that he put his neck and head into the action. “Do you think I’m going to prank call you? I’m twenty-two, not twelve.”

"With your track record, I wouldn't doubt it," Derek said. Then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. What’s your number?” As he asked the question, he felt his stomach tighten strangely in anticipation. Once again, why the hell was he doing this?

 

♢♢♢

**Stiles gave Derek his number. He tried to keep his tone as mellow as possible, but he was ridiculously excited.**

**After a few seconds, Stiles’ phone vibrated. He composed himself for a moment before he opened the message. It was the picture of himself, stuck halfway in the doggy-door. He felt his cheeks reddening.**

**“Jesus Christ,” he whispered under his breath. Derek chuckled from across the table.**

**Stiles texted Derek back.**

S: I hate you.

 

**He watched Derek read the message. The smirk on his face didn’t leave as he looked across at Stiles and rolled his eyes. Then Derek looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself. He opened his mouth again, and then snapped it shut. Then he sighed loudly and closed his eyes. “Want a beer or something?”**

**Stiles could feel his eyes widening, and he tried really hard to wipe off any look of excitement from his face.**

**“I uh,” Stiles said. He hated the fact that he only ran out of things to say when he really needed to say something. “Uh.”**

**The room went silent, and the awkwardness was nearly palpable. Derek cleared his throat.**

**“Sorry, I - ” Derek started.**

**Stiles cut him off, finally finding his words. “Not tonight. Yes, I do. But not tonight. Only because I have to work in the morning and I am freaking out, and if I have one beer I might have more and I can’t do that tonight. But yes to another night?” Wow, he couldn’t win. He either didn’t say enough, or said way way _way_ too much.**

**He noticed the corner of Derek’s mouth twitch upward slightly. “So rain check then?”**

**Stiles nodded. “How about a sun check though. There’s more of a chance for that.”**

**“Friday night?” Derek asked. He still looked as though he were trying to keep himself from speaking, and then failing at it.**

**Stiles stood up from the table, and smiled. “We can celebrate my first week of teaching.”**

**He needed to get out of there and freak out to Scott. He now had yet another thing to have anxiety about. He started walking himself towards the side door. He heard Derek stand up behind him. Stiles was opening the side door, and suddenly Derek was there, pulling the door open further as Stiles stepped outside.**

**“Sorry for the drama,” Stiles said, remembering his embarrassment.**

**“Just don’t do it again,” Derek said, seriously.**

**“Later, Deputy Hale."**

**“Derek,” the man behind him corrected. Then the door slammed shut.**

**Stiles couldn’t help but smile as he walked to his house.**


	8. invited

**Stiles was freaking out. He could hear his various past professors reciting “Don’t mess up those first few days of school” like a mantra in his head. Monday and Tuesday had been nearly flawless. But instead of this fact calming him, it was actually causing him to become more and more worked up. It was just the calm before the storm. Something bad was bound to happen. He was never that lucky.**

**When the kids came back from morning recess on Wednesday, Stiles instantly knew that his fearful premonitions were true. Three kids were missing. He could feel panic rising in him, but he needed to stay calm.**

**“Do you guys know where Skylar, Lily and Jessica are?” he asked his other students calmly.**

**A few of the boys snickered, but everyone else was otherwise silent.**

**“I _really_ hope someone decides to tell me, so I don’t have to take away snack time today.”**

**A couple of whines sounded around the room. All the kids looked at one another with wide eyes, waiting for someone to give up the information.**

**One boy finally raised his hand. “They’re in the girl's bathroom.”**

**This brought on an onslaught of laughter from part of the class. Stiles couldn’t waste time to ask though, so he let it slide for the time being. He opened the conjoining door to the room next to his and waved the teacher’s aide over to him.**

**“Mind supervising for a minute or two?” His words were rushed.**

**“Sure. Is everything okay?” she asked as she stepped into his classroom.**

**He nodded and then half-ran out of the room.**

**As he was jogging towards the bathrooms, he heard high-pitched screaming. As he got closer, he spotted one of his missing kids. Skylar was holding a milk carton and laughing. When he saw Stiles coming, he ran into the boy’s bathroom to hide.**

**Stiles stood in the doorway of the girl’s bathroom and yelled, “Lily. Jessica. Are you two in there?”**

**“Mr. Stilinski!” one of them screamed. "Help!"**

**He ran into the bathroom, but no one was in sight. There were, however, about eighteen grasshoppers crawling and jumping around. He opened a stall door, and found Lily and Jessica standing together on the toilet seat, crying and hugging each other. Instantly, he calmed down. Everything was okay. Now, he just wanted to laugh.**

**“Save us, Mr. S,” the girls cried.**

**He picked them up, one girl in each arm, and then started to back out of the stall.**

**“No no no,” Lily said. “The bugs. We have to stay in here while you squish all of 'em.”**

**“Close your eyes and count to ten. Then we will be away from the bugs,” Stiles said, with a smile.**

**“Do you promise?” Jessica asked, sniffling her nose.**

**“I do. Okay, go!”**

**Both girls squeezed their eyes shut and started counting to ten. He hustled through the bathroom as fast as he could with two first graders in his arms. When he was outside they were still counting.**

**“You two are safe now,” he said.**

**Lily peaked through her fingers to see that they were outside. Then she wrapped her arms around Stiles’ neck.**

**“Thank you Mr. S. You’re the best!”**

**He put the two girls down and then told them to stay put. Then he looked into the boy’s bathroom. He could see feet under one of the stall doors.**

**“Skylar, I know you’re in there,” he said. His voice was stern now. “Please come out so that we can go back to class.”**

**The feet didn’t move.**

**“I’m going to count to three, before I call mom,” Stiles called. “One… Two… Two and a half...”**

**He heard the stall door creak open, and then footsteps. Skylar was soon in the doorway, milk carton still in hand, and a sheepish look on his face. The two girls screamed behind Stiles.**

**“Girls,” Stiles said, turning around. They were cowering behind him. Jessica was pointing at the milk carton in Skylar’s hand.**

**“Throw the carton away, Skylar,” he said. The boy obeyed, and then the girls calmed down.**

**As Stiles walked the kids back to his classroom, he got the entire story. Skylar had spent the entire recess collecting grasshoppers from the field and putting them in a carton that he had found. Then he chased the girls into the bathroom and let them go inside.**

**Skylar had to sit in time out during a fun arts and crafts activity, and had to write apologies to Lily and Jessica…**

**After resolving the mishap, Stiles calmed down. He had successfully dealt with some drama in his classroom, and it hadn’t been so bad. The kids were a crack up, even when they were being stinkers. Now that the drama had passed though, his real frustrations had returned, and they had nothing to do with the kids. They had everything to do with the judging eyes he was getting from a few of the other teachers. He was sure that everyone on campus had probably already heard about the grasshopper fiasco, and he didn’t want to deal with that. On his lunch break, he ate in his classroom and avoided the teacher’s lounge at all costs.**

**He pulled out his cell phone. He was starting to get cranky. What he was about to do would either erase his crankiness completely, or enhance it a great deal. He found Derek’s contact info in his phone and typed out a text.**

 

S: I’m really gonna need that beer.

 

**He read the text about fourteen times before finally pressing send. He just didn’t want to come off as desperate or annoying or weird. He didn’t want to freak Derek out. He already regretted sending the text. Worry began to move through him so he closed his eyes. Derek was going to think he was being too eager, and too forward. He was going to regret letting Stiles have his number.**

**Stiles turned the screen of his phone on to see a new text. He hadn’t even felt his phone vibrate while he had been freaking out.**

 

D: It’s perfectly acceptable to have a drink on a Wednesday night.

 

**He stared at his phone screen. That was not the response he had been expecting to see, at all. He read the message again, and smiled. The more he thought about it though, the faster his smile flattened into a line and then into a frown. He had no idea how Derek meant for this text to be taken. He had been eager at first – reading it as an invite to get a beer after work. But after a few re-reads, it sounded more like a statement of truth – like Derek was stating a fact to him. He was allowed to have a beer on a Wednesday night.**

**His lunch break was running out as he contemplated a text that would somehow cover both possible scenarios.**

 

S: Fresh out at my place. Might need to borrow a few.

D: I have several. Plus bars do exist, you know?

S: I’m not about to go sit at a bar all alone on a Wednesday night.

 

**His thumb fumbled over the send button, and for a moment he thought that some sort of miracle had saved him. He did not want that text to be sent. It was too pathetic. But of course the universe was against him, and the message was zipped away, straight to Derek, wherever he was.**

**Stiles waited in anticipation for what seemed like ages. The bell was about to ring, so Stiles had to let it be, as nervous as he was, and head to the cafeteria to pick up his kids.**

**At the end of the day, after every last kid was sent on their merry way, Stiles finally glanced at his phone. He had a message from “Grumpy Cop”, received right after lunch had ended. He took his time before opening the text. He didn’t really want to see what Derek had said in response to his self-depreciating message. After another minute he finally opened it.**

 

D: I could use a drink too. Today is annoying.

 

**Stiles couldn’t help but smile at his phone before responding back.**

 

S: What time are you off???

D: 6:30. Meet me at that bar on 24th at 7?

 

**Stiles stared at the words until they finally made sense in his head. He was going to meet Derek at a bar. Later that night. Just the two of them. He started gathering all of his things so that he could rush home, before he remembered that he still needed to text Derek back.**

 

S: Okay cool. See you then.

 

 _**Cool** _ **was an understatement. That was for damn sure.**

 

* * *

 

**Stiles was in his room, wearing boxers and a jacket, when Scott got home from work. He walked into Stiles’ room and laughed.**

**“Hurricane Stiles hit today, by the looks of it.” Scott motioned to clothes scattered across the floor and bed.**

**“Dude,” Stiles said, turning around quickly. “I’m going to the bar.”**

**Scott raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh. Congratulations. Are you high?”**

**“I’m going to the bar _with Derek_ ,” he clarified. “And no, I'm not. But, I don’t know what to wear. I don’t want to look like I tried too hard, but I still want to look appealing or whatever, you know?”**

**Scott laughed again. “You should probably just stick with what you have on then.”**

**Stiles looked down at himself, only then remembering what he was wearing. Then he glared across the room at Scott.**

**Scott walked over, opened Stiles’ shirt drawer and pulled out the first shirt in the pile. Then he grabbed a maroon pair of pants off of the floor and threw them both at Stiles.**

**“There you go. Effortless.”**

**Stiles put the clothes on and then looked in the mirror. The pants were slightly wrinkled, but the outfit at least matched. He nodded once and then looked away.**

**“Works for me,” Stiles shrugged. “Thanks man. Now, should I get there a little bit later than seven so that I don’t look too excited?”**

**Scott rolled his eyes. “I think that you should calm down and just go. You think too much.”**

**Stiles sighed. It was true.**

 

♢♢♢

 

After work, Derek went out to his car and opened the back seat. He had a few random articles of clothing strewn about from various trips to the gym, or from getting called into work while out and about. He didn’t want to go home and change, because then he would be late for the time that he had set himself.

All that he could find that was reasonably clean and unwrinkled was a grey v-neck and black basketball shorts. He went back inside the station and changed. He looked in the mirror and sighed. He looked like he was about to go out for a run, not go grab a drink at the bar. It was probably a sign that he was making a stupid decision, going for drinks with Stiles.

He pulled out his phone. He could cancel. He _should_ cancel.

His fingers, however, betrayed him as he typed out a text to his neighbor.

 

**D: Be there closer to 7:30. Sorry.**

 

He rushed to his car and drove home. Next door, the Jeep was already gone. He hustled inside, pet Chevy and got him some food and water, and then threw on some clean clothes. He quickly made his way back through the house and to his car. His phone was still sitting on his car seat, and he had a text from Stiles.

 

**S: No worries. Sitting at the bar.**

 

When Derek got there, he spotted Stiles right away. He was talking to the bartender and drinking water. He turned and waved Derek over.

“Grumpy Cop is fashionably late,” he said, with a smirk.

“Hey, at least I gave you fair warning,” he said, sitting down. "You should've ordered something. You didn't have to wait for me."

Stiles scoffed. "Already seven beers deep. You don't know my life."

Derek just rolled his eyes, and waved down the bartender.

Stiles piped up loudly next to him, "I'm kidding, by the way. No beers were consumed during the waiting process."

Derek _didn't_ _laugh_. They both ordered a beer and then the whole room seemed to grow awkwardly quiet. Derek cleared his throat without really thinking about it, causing the awkwardness to somehow thicken. The kid was usually obnoxiously animated. Why was he so quiet all of the sudden?

“So, uh,” Stiles finally started. “Why was today so annoying, and thus, beer-worthy?”

Derek groaned. “For some reason, your dad thinks that I'm a great teacher, so I got stuck training the new guy today. He was… annoying.”

“Ahh,” Stiles said, before taking a drink of his beer. “I can’t see you teaching. Dad probably just didn’t want to do it.”

Derek was silent for a few seconds after the stab. That was when Stiles smacked the back of his shoulder once.

“Dude. I’m kidding. I know my dad, and he wouldn’t make you his right hand man if you sucked.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Derek mumbled.

“Why was he annoying?”

“Huh? Oh, the new guy? He was just too loud and too high energy.” As the words fell from his mouth, he realized why the new guy had pushed his buttons so much. “He actually kind of reminded me of you.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something a few times before he was finally able to get words out. “Honestly, I don’t know whether I should be flattered or offended.”

Derek just shrugged, avoiding the statement completely. “What happened at work?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

He was successful, and was quickly drawn into a complete account of Stiles’ day. He couldn’t help but laugh when Stiles told him the story about a kid trapping girls in the bathroom by unleashing grasshoppers upon them.

“I feel like you’d be the one with the grasshoppers when you were little.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “As if. I was the kid sneaking into the cafeteria to steal extra chocolate milk. So maybe I would've contributed the empty milk carton. But I'm not gonna lie to you, Hale. Grasshoppers freak me the hell out.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me either?”

Their banter continued on, as they each had another beer. Then Derek caught Stiles trying not to yawn, and failing at it.

“Time to call it a night,” Derek said.

“But I,” Stiles started, but then he shut his mouth tightly. He nodded his head and then yawned again. “Probably a good idea.”

Derek watched as Stiles got into his car, and then he did the same. He drove behind Stiles the whole way there, and as he drove he couldn’t help but think about how easy that had been once they actually started talking. Derek had never been a talker. He was more of a one-word-response kind of guy. But Stiles just made it so easy to talk. He also enjoyed being around someone that understood his sarcasm. No one ever thought he was funny before, even when he would try. It was good to finally have a friend. Even if that friend had broken into his house several times, and was overly energetic. 

When he got out of his car, Stiles was still outside. “Night, Derek,” he called.

“Goodnight, Stiles.”


	9. linked

**Friday came quick, and by the end of the day, all Stiles could think about was going home and napping. Sleeping for days, actually. Like for the entire weekend, starting from the second his head hit his pillows. He attended a quick, mandatory meeting, and then rushed to his Jeep in haste. He could almost hear his bed calling his name like a siren song.**

**He had never been so tired before in his life. Okay, so maybe that was a lie. But he had never been so tired before in his life _without_ being extremely and embarrassingly hungover, or on a 48+ hour, minimal sleep, energy-drink and Adderall kick for finals. He was exhausted and was suffering from a first-week-of-work hangover. It wasn’t like he was falling asleep at the wheel or anything. He was just resting his eyes at every red light. **

**Because of course he was hitting _all of them_.**

**He was finally about two miles away from his neighborhood when red and blue lights were flashing in his rear-view mirror. A police cruiser was nearly riding his bumper.**

**“God fucking dammit,” Stiles growled. He just wanted his bed so bad that he could cry. Hopefully it was someone he knew through his dad, so that he could get out of whatever trouble he was in for. He hadn’t even thought he was doing anything wrong.**

♢♢♢

Derek knew he shouldn’t have done it, but the second his hand turned his cruiser’s lights on, there was absolutely no turning back. He hated that his whole entire being seemed to be working against him these days when it came to Stiles. 

The blue Jeep in front of him pulled over. Derek parked behind it and hesitated a minute before slowly exiting the cruiser. He sauntered over to Stiles’ passenger side window and peered in. Stiles had his head resting on the steering wheel. His eyes were closed gently, as if he were sleeping. Derek tapped on the window with a fingertip and Stiles jumped, flailing, and hit his head on the driver’s side window. Derek tried to stifle a laugh.

“Shit fuck,” he heard Stiles grumble from inside. “Ow. Dammit.”

Stiles still hadn’t seen him. Derek had hidden his face from the window view. He watched as Stiles leaned across the console to manually roll the window down. Derek poked his head into the car before Stiles was even finished.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said.

“Oh, my god.” Stiles jumped back into his seat – his hands pressed tightly over his heart. Then he just sat there, gawking at Derek. Finally he rattled his head and rubbed his eyes. A look of pure confusion washed over his face. “What in the - ?”

Derek took his sunglasses off, and quickly appraised him. Stiles looked terrible. His face was pale, apart from dark circles surrounding his eyes. And his eyes just didn’t seem as bright or as big as normal.

“You need to get some sleep,” Derek said aloud, on accident. _Oops_. 

Stiles glared at him, his reaction a bit delayed. “Uh. That was sorta the plan until I got pulled over for some _godforsaken reason_.”

Derek snorted. “Someone's cranky.”

“Sorry ‘bout it,” Stiles said with sarcasm strong in both his tone and his expression.

“Anyway,” Derek started. Then he stopped himself. He was being ridiculous. He tried to keep his mouth shut tightly. It didn’t work though. His lips opened on their own accord, and words just sort of fell out. “Just wanted to see if you still wanted to get that celebratory beer later. After you take a really long nap, of course.”

Stiles’ features morphed into some expression that Derek couldn’t exactly pinpoint. It was like a mixture of anger, shock, incredulousness, and maybe something else. What else, however, he didn’t know. 

“Wait, so,” Stiles started, shaking his head. “What you’re telling me is that you pulled me over to ask me to go get a drink later?”

Derek looked down at his hands, and didn’t say anything. He was starting to realize just how stupid this all was. He was an idiot.

“I mean, yeah. Yes. Yes to beer later. But seriously man, remember texting? It still exists, and doesn’t involve giving Stiles a heart attack.”

Derek tried to look as innocent as possible. Stiles had just agreed to go, had he not? “Sorry,” he sighed, trying not to smile. “I’m just really bored today.”

The corner of Stiles’ mouth pulled up slightly. “’S okay. You’re just going to have to make it up to me.”

“Oh really?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. He could only imagine. 

“Yep. Give me permission right now to break into your backyard and steal Chevy. Because I need a good nap, and the key to an awesome one is a snuggly, warm puppy.”

Derek hadn’t been expecting that. Although, he wasn’t exactly sure what he _had_ been expecting.

He hesitated a moment, on purpose. “Fine,” he sighed, trying to make his voice sound annoyed; like letting Stiles watch his dog totally put him out.

Stiles beamed at that, anyway. “Coolness. When are you off?”

“Probably won’t be home until 7:30 or 8:00.”

“Perfect,” Stiles said. “Gonna set my alarm for 7:45 then.”

Derek nodded, and then turned his authoritative voice on. “Have a good afternoon. Stay out of trouble, kid.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m on my way to break into my neighbor’s house and steal his dog, dude. Trouble is my middle name.” Then he _winked_.

Derek just shook his head and tried to hide his smirk.

“Have a nice nap,” he finally said, knocking once on the side of Stiles’ car.

“Later,” Stiles said, mid yawn.

Then Stiles drove away, peeling out into traffic. Derek rolled his eyes before getting back into his cruiser.

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles could feel a smile growing on his face before he was even back on the road. What the hell _was that_? Stiles wasn’t complaining, that was for sure, but he still couldn’t even be sure that it had actually just happened. Sometimes sleepiness made him daydream stupid, overly hopeful things.**

**When he arrived home, he had a text from Grumpy Cop.**

 

D: Chev had a bunch of food out all day so he should be good. No need to get stuck in the wall again.

  

**There it was. Proof that his Derek encounter had been a real life thing. He got out of his car and walked straight towards Derek’s back gate.**

**“Chev,” he called. “Chevy!”**

**The puppy - who was getting bigger every time Stiles saw him - bounded clumsily out of the doggy-door. Stiles bent down to pet him between the ears, and received a sloppy, wet lick across his face.**

**“Come on,” he called as he walked back to the gate. Chevy followed at his heels. Even when they were in the front yard, and the neighbor across the street was checking her mail, Chevy stayed right by Stiles’ legs. The dog was good. Thank goodness too, because the last thing Stiles was about to do that evening was chase a puppy through the streets.**

**When he got inside, he changed into some sweats and then climbed into bed. Chevy jumped up there too, nuzzling into a warm ball on top of Stiles’ feet. They were both out within minutes.**

* * *

**Stiles woke up to a banging on his door, and Chevy barking and howling. Talk about a rude awakening.**

**“Stiles! For god’s sake, wake up.”**

**It was Scott. The door was then thrust open, and Scott was barreling into his room. He flicked the switch on, blinding Stiles instantly.**

**“What the hell,” Stiles groaned, pulling his blanket over his eyes.**

**Then he heard it: the ringing alarm on his cell phone.**

**“How the _fuck_ can you snore on right through that?” Scott asked. “It’s been going off for like an hour and a half. I finally had to unscrew your doorknob to break in here. Me and Kira are going crazy. We even went on a walk and out to eat to get away.”**

**Shit. Stiles pulled the blanket down and blinked at Scott. “An hour and a half?”**

**“Yes,” Scott grumbled. He was moving things around, trying to find the phone. “Where the hell is it?”**

**Stiles jumped out of bed, and then had to catch himself on the wall.**

**“Head rush?” Scott asked, his voice less mad.**

**Stiles just flashed him a thumbs up and then took a few deep breaths. Then he went back into frantic mode. He found the phone under his pillow.**

**Scott started laughing. “Are you kidding me, man? That thing was right under your head for a freaking hour and a half and you slept through it?” Scott was shaking his head and looking baffled. “I do not understand.”**

**“Yay! You got it to stop,” a girl’s voice called. Then Kira was in the doorway. “Oh, hi Stiles. Oops.” She giggled and turned quickly.**

**“You’re not really a sight for sore eyes, man.”**

**Stiles just shot him a glare. Then he looked down at his phone. He had a missed call and three texts. All were from Derek. The call was from 8:20. It was closing in on 9:30.**

**“Oh, Deputy Hale was looking for you, but that was like forever ago. He probably wanted his dog back.” Scott looked at Stiles incredulously for a moment, and then left the room.**

**Stiles looked back at his phone and opened the messages.**

D (8:05): Bar on 24th in 15 mins? I can drive.

D (8:23): Are you showering or something or still asleep?

D (8:30): Just talked to Scott. I’ll stop bothering so you can get more sleep. You need it.

 

**Stiles fell back onto his bed. “Dammit,” he growled. Then he called Derek.**

**“I’m so sorry,” he started, before Derek could even get a greeting out. “I passed out, dude. Like, my alarm has been going off for an hour and a half and I didn’t even notice.”**

**“It’s fine,” Derek said. Then, “How’s Chevy.”**

**Stiles scruffed the puppy’s ears. “He’s good. He was howling like a madman a second ago. I probably slept through that a while, too.”**

**“I can come get him.”**

**Stiles sighed loudly, forgetting that Derek could hear it through the phone.**

**“What?” he asked.**

**“I just feel bad. I wanted to go celebrate.”**

**For a moment the line was quiet. Then, “Bars don’t close at ten, last time I checked.”**

**Stiles couldn’t help but smile a little. “Just lemme take a quick shower. Then I’ll come over. Bye.”**

**He hung up, and then ran out into the living room, still in his boxers. Chevy was at his heels.**

**“Guess who’s going out with the hot neighbor tonight? Yeah, this guy,” he said, pointing his thumbs at himself.**

**“About damn time,” Scott said, smiling.**

**Then Stiles skipped away to quickly take a shower, and get ready.**

♢♢♢

Derek was watching some stupid Lifetime movie and eating popcorn, when there was a knock at his side door. Before he even made it to the kitchen, he heard the door creak open, and was greeted by Chevy first and then Stiles.

Derek looked at Stiles probably a little too long, but he couldn’t help it. Something about him was different. Something-

Stiles’ face fell into a frown and his hands instantly went to his head. “Yeah, my hair looks terrible. Didn’t want to waste time getting it to stand up right, you know?”

Derek looked away, and then back at Stiles. That’s exactly what it was, minus the terrible part. Stiles’ hair was how it must've always looked before Stiles did anything to it. It hung down slightly on his forehead, and over the tops of his ears. And dammit, it looked so fucking soft. Derek’s hands started to tingle as he thought about pushing his fingers through Stiles’ dark hair.

 _Great_ , his thoughts were working against him, too.

He heard Stiles swallow loudly. “I, uh. I'm gonna go home and fix it real quick.”

“No!” Derek butted in, quickly. Too quickly. He hesitated on purpose for a moment after. “It looks soft. Fu- I mean, it looks good. _Fine_. Okay. Just leave it.”

 _Oh, god_. Derek had never wanted to run away and hide in embarrassment more in his life.

Stiles smiled slightly at him, but it didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Should we go?” Derek asked, and Stiles nodded.

The ride was quiet. It wasn’t an awkward-quiet, per-say, but Derek didn’t like it. Something felt off about it. He was just not good at breaking silences, ever. 

He tried. “Want to go downtown instead? Then we have a bunch of places to choose from.” They also wouldn't potentially run into Stiles' dad and Scott's mom there, but he wasn't about to add that part out loud.

Stiles nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

Then the car went back to being oddly silent.

 

♢♢♢

**Stiles was stuck in his head. Maybe it was just because he was still so tired, or the fact that he hadn’t fully woken back up yet, but he couldn’t stop getting lost in his thoughts. And they weren’t good thoughts. Not at all. They were more like mood ruining, self-depreciating, sad thoughts. And they were all geared towards the person he was sitting next to, and himself.**

**From the corner of his eye, Stiles took in Derek Hale, in all his glory. The dude was too hot for his own good, and it _wasn’t fair_. Stiles looked at his own reflection in the side mirror out the window and frowned. Seeing them hanging out together was probably like seeing a shiny fucking Rolls-Royce parked in the same garage as some paint-peeling clunker. It just never happened. That was never a thing.**

**He was worried to drink. Whenever he got into a funk, drinking always just seemed to heighten it. And he was worried that he would make a fool of himself by crying or saying something really stupid and emotional.**

**He leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes.**

**“Hey,” Derek said, his voice quiet. “Are you sure you want to go? We don’t have to if you’re still exhausted.”**

**Stiles sighed. Derek was probably hoping that he would say he was too tired. Stiles wanted to say it. He probably should've, to save himself from further inevitable embarrassment. But he just couldn’t find the will to do it. He was with Derek Hale and he was going enjoy the moment before the dude figured out that he was not all that spectacular.**

**“I still wanna,” Stiles said. “Sorry, just trying to wake up.”**

**Derek nodded. He was pulling into a parking space.**

**“Wait, so, how's this going to work?” Stiles asked. “I’m going to get drunk and you’re just going to watch?”**

**“I can have a beer or two,” he shrugged.**

**Stiles sighed. “I have a feeling that my self control is going to be lacking in that department tonight.”**

**“I can D.D.,” Derek said, right away. “It’s fine. You look like you could use a few drinks.”**

**“Yeah, but that isn’t _fun_ ,” Stiles said. “Hold on.”**

**Then he busted out his phone and dialed Scott.**

**“Dude,” Stiles said into the phone. “I have a favor. Like an ‘I’ll do dishes and take the trash out for a whole month’ favor.”**

**“Need a ride later?” Scott asked, before Stiles could even continue.**

**“Yes please,” Stiles said. “We’re downtown.”**

**“Just make it be before last call, _please_. I work tomorrow at eight.”**

**“You’re the best, bro. Love you.”**

**“You better,” Scott said. Then the call was ended.**

**Stiles tried for a smile at Derek after putting his phone away. "Jägerbombs, anyone?"**

**At the first bar, the had each taken two Jägerbombs right away. Now, Derek was working on a Jameson and ginger-ale, while Stiles downed a vodka-Redbull. All the energy drink combos were probably a bad idea for him, but he was tired, and those would keep him awake _and_ get him drunk. Logic.  **

**"I'm going to have to thank your dad profusely for giving me tomorrow off," Derek said as he finished the last sip of his drink.**

**"Already planning on being hungover tomorrow?" Stiles said, smacking Derek roughly on the shoulder. "That's the spirit."**

**Stiles was feeling a little better about himself since he had a slight buzz starting. Derek was obviously not too embarrassed to be seen with him in public - even with his hair all flat - seeing that he was standing shoulder to shoulder at the pretty much empty bar with him.**

**"Let's go somewhere else," Stiles said, slamming his empty cup onto the counter.**

**Derek laughed and then led them outside.**

**Stiles hadn't been out to the bars in Beacon Hills before then, so he had no idea where was good.**

**"I feel like everyone here is in college," Derek said. "Not going to lie; being out here makes me feel really old."**

**"Maybe it's 'cause you look really old," Stiles joked. Derek glared at him. "What? It's your scruff's fault, not mine."**

**They ended up at a tequila bar, and Stiles was super hesitant to order anything. The place was a lot more crowded than the last bar.**

**"What do you want?" Derek yelled through the music. "I'll get it and bring it back here."**

**"Just a beer," Stiles called. He did not drink tequila. Ever. Not since the last time he drank so much of it that the saying "Tequila Makes Your Clothes Fall Off" became the official title of his unwritten autobiography.**

**"Really?" Derek asked, his voice mocking a shocked tone. "You're at a tequila bar and you want a beer? I'll get two margaritas. Any preference on a flavor?"**

**Stiles shook his head furiously. "No no no no no. I do not want you to have to arrest me for public indecency later."**

**"Okay," Derek laughed. Then he turned on his heel and started to walk away. "Beer it is!"**

**Stiles tried to keep his mouth shut, but he failed. "Fuck it. I'll just take a normal one. On the rocks with salt and a lime. Thanks, you're a doll." Shit. The last thing he needed was his most favorite, but also most banned drink.**

**Derek turned and smiled at him, before he made it up to the bar.**

 

♢♢♢

 

Derek and Stiles each had a margarita and they were delicious. Stiles insisted fervently that he buy them another round. Derek didn't object. After they finished their second ones, Derek was feeling pretty good. Actually, he was feeling great. He hadn't drank that much in probably a few years. And yeah, he did feel old being out downtown, but he also somehow felt young again too. And, dammit, he  _was_ young. Twenty-eight was still plenty young.

"Let's go somewhere new," he said. He wrapped his hand around Stiles' wrist without thinking about it, and gently guided him through the crowd and towards the door.

When they got back into the nice, fresh air, he looked down and realized that he was still holding onto Stiles. Stiles was staring down at the situation as well, and the look on his face was impossible to judge.

"Sorry," Derek mumbled, letting go and rubbing his hand on his jeans.

Stiles just looked at him for a moment. His expression was still unreadable. Derek had to look down at his shoes. He was officially the buzz-kill of the night.

"Let's go to that place across the street." Stiles' voice finally broke the silence. Then there was a warm hand on his - fingers weaving in-between his own. Stiles jerked his arm forward. "Come on, old man."

Derek just wasn't going to question it. He followed Stiles - being pulled along by their linked hands. He probably had a stupid grin on his face, but the alcohol was definitely limiting his abilities to make himself keep that from happening. 

At the next bar, Stiles got them each a shot of Fireball and some water. Derek just shook his head.

"You're trying to kill me aren't you?"

"Grumpy Cop can't keep up?" Stiles joked. Then he handed Derek the water. "Kidding. Hydration is key."

Derek glared at him jokingly, and took the shot without cheersing him first. Then he gave Stiles a testing look, and took the other shot too. It was probably his worst idea to date, but there was obviously no turning back after the shot glass was empty.

Stiles ordered two more shots of Fireball, and took them both. Then he ordered a second water and chugged most of it in a few seconds. Derek was still nursing his. The icy liquid felt good.

"Touché, Derek." Stiles was shaking his head. "That second one almost got me. My college drinking skills are waning."

Derek laughed, and his face felt tingly. He was so drunk. It felt nice. It was freeing. He knew that the next morning was not going to feel that way at all, but he put that out of his mind for the time being.

"I haven't been this drunk in years," Derek said. After it came out of his mouth, he realized that it was probably something he shouldn't be yelling in a bar.

"I haven't been this way since, well, my own house warming party. But I am tame now in comparison. No hitting my head on shit this time around."

"Yeah," Derek laughed - remembering the night. "Wow, how is it already 1:00?"

 

♢♢♢

 

**"Shit, really?" Stiles pulled his own phone out to see the time, and to see that he had a missed call from Scott. It was only from five minutes prior, so it was fine.**

**He shot him a text and then sipped on his water as he waited.**

 

S: Does 1:45 count as not being last call? :) :) :)

SM: Ugh. Fine. I'll call when I'm close.

S: Looooove yooooou!!! :)

SM: Yeah, you better dude.

 

**They finished their waters in a comfortable silence. Stiles had been scared after he had rashly decided to grab Derek's hand earlier, but things seemed to be okay. A mixture of alcohol and Derek was just the right combo to remedy his over-thinking. Now he was just a little too drunk, but he was so self-conscious that it was somehow evening out and keeping him in a somewhat normal state of mind. He just didn't want to do or say anything embarrassing like he usually did.**

**Stiles was super excited about the whole hand-holding thing, though. Yeah, holding hands was a simple, somewhat juvenile gesture. But to him, it was kind of a bigger deal than pretty much anything else. He could hook up with whoever, but holding hands? He never did that with just anyone. It was important.**

**More importantly though, was the fact that Stiles _wanted_ to hold hands with Derek. From the moment that he had seen the dude, he had known that he wanted to get all up on that, maybe fuck a few times and that would be that. That had been his original fantasy. But now? Now he wanted to hold hands with Derek. He wanted to babysit his dog, and visit Derek after work, and take care of him. Stiles had been sure that he was never going to feel that way again after getting his heart stomped into pieces by James, but Derek was proving him wrong. He smiled to himself as he thought.**

**His thoughts began to muddle a little as the last two shots really sunk in. He started to eat the ice from his water cup, as an idea sparked in his mind. Stiles wanted to dance. He wanted music so loud that he could feel it pounding in his bones. And who better a dance partner than Derek Hale?**

 

**♢♢♢**

 

Stiles dragged them to one last place. They were hand in hand again, and Derek was glad. He liked holding hands with Stiles, and also - though he was ashamed to admit it - liked that there was someone guiding him to walk straight. He was super drunk. There was no way the following morning was going to be kind to him now.

The place they arrived at was packed. There was music playing and people dancing. It was nearly impossible to move once they were through the doors of the bar.

"Want one last beer and then dance?" Stiles asked. "We can split one."

Derek nodded. And then, shit, he had just agreed to have  _another_ drink. That was definitely not going to end well. He stood there, waiting for Stiles to return. He tried to tell himself over and over again that he wasn't that drunk, but god he was hammered. There was just no denying that fact.

After an eternity of standing awkwardly, and  _not_ swaying in place, Stiles reappeared. He handed Derek the beer.

Derek took a small sip, and then handed it back to Stiles, shaking his head. Stiles took the beer, pounded it in a few big gulps, put it down on a nearby table, and then smiled at Derek.

 

"And now, we dance." Stiles grabbed onto Derek's hand and pulled him into the abyss of people.

Before anything else could happen, though, Stiles frowned and said, "Oops!" He pulled his phone out and put it to his ear, before yelling into it. "I can't hear you. Going outside now. Bye.

"To be continued, sweetcheeks," Stiles said. Then he leaned forward, kissing Derek on the cheek before pulling him off the dance floor and out the doors.

The cold air felt good on his face. He breathed in and out of his nose only, because he was scared to even open his mouth at that point. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up in front of Stiles.

They found Scott quick, thank god, and he rolled down the window. Kira was getting out of the front seat. They were parked next to Derek's car.

"Hey, Deputy Hale," Scott said. "Where are your keys? Kira's going to drive your car home for you."

Right then, he noticed Scott's eyes zero in on their interlocked hands. He watched a smile grow across Scott's face.

Derek had to let go though, and then he dug through his pockets searching for his car keys. When he found them, finally, he handed them to Kira.

"You guys can ride with me," Scott said. "There's waters back there, and a bucket. If one of you just so much as  _thinks_ about barfing in my car - "

And Derek couldn't do it any longer. He couldn't hold it in. He buckled over and vomited all over the street.

"Oh, shit," Stiles said, behind him. Then there was a hand rubbing his back, and a water being thrust into his grasp.

 

♢♢♢

 

**After Derek was done puking, Stiles helped him into the car. It wasn't until he had to get in on the other side, that he realized he probably could have used some help himself. He was definitely going to have a bruise on his shin from smacking it with the car door.**

**They weren't even out onto the main road, when Derek's head lolled over onto Stiles' shoulder. Stiles nudged him once, but he didn't do anything. He was passed out.**

**Stiles had to try extra hard not to fall asleep the entire way home. He kept thinking about the night, and how it had turned around and ended up being fun. Apart from the puking, that was.**

**Stiles leaned his head back on the headrest and focused on the streetlights blurring by to keep himself awake.**

**Eventually, they pulled into the driveway of Derek's house. Stiles had to try several times to wake him up. Eventually, he jolted awake so quick that Stiles flailed and maybe almost peed his pants.**

**"Holy god," he yipped.**

**"Sleep," Derek said, closing his eyes again.**

**Stiles bumped his side. "Come on. I'll help you inside."**

**Derek just groaned for a few seconds, but then he came to life, slowly but surely. Stiles jumped out of the car, stumbled quite a bit, and then made it to the side Derek was attempting to get out from. He lent Derek a shoulder on one side, and Scott did on the other. Then they made their way up the walkway.**

**"Side door," Derek said.**

**When they got to it, it was thankfully unlocked. They got Derek inside and onto the couch. Instantly, Chevy was jumping up there too and licking his face.**

**"No no," Derek sighed, halfheartedly. "No stop."**

**Stiles walked over and picked up the puppy. He sat down on the recliner in the room and then let Chevy lie in his lap.**

**Scott walked out for a few seconds and then returned with water bottles. He put one on the table next to Stiles and one on the table in front of Derek's couch. Then he plopped the bucket from the car down on the ground in front of where Derek's head was.**

**"Just in case," Scott said. Then he started inching towards the door. "You coming home or should I lock up?"**

**"Gonna stay here and make sure he's okay," Stiles said, halfway through a yawn.**

**Scott nodded. "Okay. Drink water."**

**"Thanks for the ride. Tell Kira thanks too."**

**Scott agreed, and then left.**

**Stiles had to sit through Derek puking two more times, but then he seemed to calm down. He was snoring and in a deeper sleep. Stiles took the opportunity to pass out - long limbs sprawled across the carpeted floor.**

 

* * *

  

**He awoke to the shittiest feeling ever: a hangover.**

**His stomach felt empty and full at the same time. His throat was dry, and his head was throbbing constantly. He needed water, but he had drunk his bottle throughout the night. The last thing he was about to try right then was sitting up. Instead, he just stared longingly into the kitchen. Maybe if he stared long enough, water would magically come to him. He needed a magic wand so that he could _Accio_ that shit to himself from the kitchen, or more realistically, he needed to train Chevy to bring them waters from the fridge.**

**He could see Derek from his spot on the floor. Derek was curled into the fetal position on the couch. From the looks of it, he was going to be sleeping all day long.**

**After a while, Stiles gingerly sat up. After some dizziness wore off, he got up and walked slowly into the kitchen. He started rummaging through the fridge and cabinets. Derek's kitchen was hopeless, and that was really saying something coming from a 'just starting out' poor, recent college graduate. The cabinets had a few different flavors of Ramen Noodles, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, and Poptarts. There were a couple of cereal boxes too, but they were all running on empty. In the fridge, there were some beers, milk, and a lot of protein drinks.**

**Stiles peeked in at Derek to make sure he was okay before sneaking out the side door and running home to grab ingredients to make them breakfast... at 12:30 in the afternoon.**

**As he was readying the kitchen to start cooking, he heard Derek moving around in the living room. Then he heard footsteps and a door slam shut. Fifteen minutes later, Derek walked into the kitchen and slipped into one of the chairs at the table.**

**"He lives!" Stiles said, a little too loudly. It hurt his head.**

**"Barely," Derek mumbled.**

**Stiles glanced over, and was instantly mad and aroused all at once. Obviously, Derek was hungover as hell, but he still somehow managed to look amazing. He had showered, and his hair was still a little wet. His scruff was all too inviting, and he was wearing glasses, which well, Stiles had a thing for those. He was also wearing a grey tank-top, and his arms looked huge even just while crossed on top of the table.**

**"Don't look at my shame," Derek groaned. Then he rested his head on his arms.**

**Stiles just scoffed. He brought two platefuls over, and then two giant glasses of ice water.**

**Derek sat up and reached right for the water.**

**"Drink that slow, barfy," Stiles said with a wink.**

**Derek glared at him, and then promptly drank over half the glass, never breaking eye-contact.**

**"I hate you, you know," Derek said, finally taking a bite of scrambled eggs. "But thanks anyway for breakfast."**

**"Hey, you're the old man that chose to keep up with a kid like me. Don't hate the player, hate the game."**

**"Go home," Derek deadpanned.**

**Stiles just smirked snidely at him, and then went back to eating. After he finished, he walked over and washed his plate. Then he opened Derek's fridge, grabbed a beer and cracked it open.**

**"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Derek looked completely appalled and sick all at once.**

**Stiles shrugged. "Hair of the dog. Adios, hangover. Hello, good-as-new Stiles."**

**Derek covered his nose and mouth with his hands. "Just don't bring it anywhere near me, unless you want to clean up my vomit."**

**"Did enough of that last night." Stiles sighed dramatically.**

**"Sorry about that."**

**"No worries. You made it to the bathroom in time except for with your first offense, but that was in the parking lot. No cleaning duty for me."**

**Derek pushed his mostly full plate forward and then put his head down on the table. "Fucking embarrassing."**

**"Dude, we have all been there. And honestly, no one saw but me, Scott and Kira. We don't judge."**

**"Can we just watch a movie or something. I don't want to move anymore."**

**"It's your house, man," Stiles laughed, but secretly thrilled about the 'we' part. "We can do whatever you want."**

**They started to watch a movie, but Derek kept nodding off every few minutes.**

**"I hate to be lame," Derek started, groggily. He looked genuinely upset. "But, I can't even keep my eyes open. I'll probably just sleep this off until tomorrow. I work really early."**

**"It's all good," Stiles said with a smile. "Thanks for celebrating last night though. It was fun... for me at least."**

**Derek nodded. "It was fun."**

**"Hangover worth it?"**

**"I think so."**

**"Me too, definitely."**

**Then, Stiles left Derek to sleep. He went home and relayed the entire play-by-play of his night to Scott - hoping that his drunken memories were legit. He just wished that he could have known whether or not the hand-holding meant _anything_ , or if it was just a  _drunk-thing_.**

**Without that liquid confidence boost though, he was not going to ask, or be the one to bring it up. He added it to the list of things that kept him up at night.**


	10. resented

**Stiles hadn't seen Derek for a week. It was the weekend again, and after taking a three hour nap, he was ready to change that. He peeked outside to see that Derek's Toyota was now in the driveway next door. Then he went into the kitchen and started cooking.**

**He made pasta, his specialty. He made a parmesan and mozzarella cheese sauce with pesto and chicken and sundried tomatoes. His stomach was growling furiously as he put the finished product into a big Tupperware. He grabbed two bowls, two forks and a serving spoon and then made his way next door. **

** He basically sprinted to the side door, his hunger egging him on. Then he knocked softly before letting himself in - the door was unlocked. **

** Derek was sitting at the kitchen table, putting an ice cube into a steaming hot bowl of Top Ramen. He didn't even look up when Stiles entered. **

** "Pour that load of crap down the sink, Hale. Are you reverting back to your college ways?  Did you, like, have your mid-life crisis after drinking downtown with us youngins or something?"  **

** Derek finally looked up from the bowl and right into Stiles' eyes. Once again, he was wearing his glasses, but they did nothing to hide the tiredness in his eyes. He let out a grunt and then ate another fork full of noodles without breaking eye contact. **

**Stiles laughed, and then he held up the Tupperware. "Dude, seriously. I made you some real food." **

** Derek was obviously exhausted, but as Stiles pulled the lid off of the dish and the aromas filled the kitchen, his tired eyes lit up. **

** Stiles walked over, deciding that he was allowed inside. Then he put the food on the table. He put an empty bowl in front of Derek, and pulled the bowl of Top Ramen away.  **

** He handed Derek the serving spoon. "Do the honors?" **

** Derek didn’t say a word, but he took the spoon and filled his bowl to the brim. **

** When he was done, Stiles grabbed the spoon and filled his bowl too. He didn’t sit though. He was beginning to feel awkward. Derek was too quiet. Maybe he wasn't welcome there that evening. He started to back towards the door. **

** "What are you doing?" Derek finally came to life a little bit. His voice was rough.**

** "Oh. Um. Just taking some home for myself. I didn’t eat dinner yet." **

** Derek seemed to be frozen for a moment. Stiles waited in the doorway, stilled by Derek's stare.  **

** Finally he spoke. "You can eat here. You'll probably want seconds." **

** Stiles tried to hide the smile he could feel twitching at the corners of his mouth. Then he walked back over and slipped into the chair across from Derek.  **

** Derek smiled slightly at him, before going back to shoveling food into his mouth. He got seconds and cleared his bowl before he spoke again.**

**"Thanks for that. Didn’t realize I was starving. Today was so long." **

** "You look like hell, no offense." Stiles said, even though it was a lie. It was impossible for Derek to look even slightly bad.  **

** "This whole week has been a blur. I've barely had time to do anything but come home, sleep, wake up and go back to work. Big case. Guess I forgot to eat for most of it." **

** "Good thing Stiles was here to save the day," Stiles said, pushing the Tupperware towards Derek. "There's a ton more. Dig in, dude." **

** And Derek did just that. Stiles was hoping that the dinner would last Derek a few meals, but that was a negative. He would just have to make him something new and bring it over the next night. He was definitely, totally fine with that.**

** Derek was finally starting to slow down. He still looked exhausted though.  **

** "Yesterday your dad made me take half the day off. I literally slept for all of it, and I still felt like shit." **

** "Do you work tomorrow?" **

** Derek sighed. "Yep. No fun weekend for me this time around." **

** Stiles laughed a little, thinking about their drunk, hand-holding adventure the weekend prior. He wondered how much of that night Derek actually remembered. He changed the subject in attempt to shut his mind up. "What's your big case?"  
**

** "Not a chance." Derek rolled his eyes. "Not like I can tell you, anyway." **

** "Oh, come on," Stiles groaned. "I used to know about every damn case in the county. I had a radio in my jeep that I rigged to pick up your guys' station in high school. I'm not going to do anything with the information. Just curious." **

**"You know what they say about curiosity," Derek started. Then he sighed. "The guys at the station were right to warn me about you."  
**

** Stiles nearly choked on his bite of pasta. "What?"  
**

** "They said that since you and Scott are back in town, I might be trolled by you two losers." **

**_Oh, that._ "Ugh, fine," Stiles grumbled. Then he smirked at Derek. "I'm going to find out, you know that right."**

** Derek sighed and then looked at him seriously. "Don't," was all he said. **

**Stiles tried to tone down his curiosity, but it didn't quite work. The case had to be something pretty huge if Derek wouldn't even give him a hint. Come to think of it, his dad had mentioned a big case too. Stiles was going to have to delve into some research later, that was for sure. **

**Derek yawned loudly, and it pulled Stiles from his thoughts. **

** "Dude, go to sleep," Stiles said, giving up on his prying. He stood up and started gathering bowls and silverware. He put a lid on what was left of the pasta and put it into Derek's fridge. "I'll get out of your hair, sleepyhead." **

** Derek stood up and faced Stiles. "That's rude though. You just made me dinner and I can't even manage to have a proper conversation with you." **

** Stiles shrugged and smiled. "You need your beauty sleep. I now understand that it must be very important to you." He winked. **

** Derek scoffed, and it morphed into another yawn. **

** "Have a good day tomorrow. Take that pasta for lunch," Stiles said, pointing the wooden serving spoon at Derek. "Or else." **

** Derek nodded. "Thanks for dinner." **

** "No problem. Figured you were tired of Top Ramen and Pop Tarts. Just know that I might steal Chevy tomorrow afternoon as a payment." **

** He heard Derek chuckle about that as he let himself out of the side door. **

♢♢♢

Derek was falling asleep on the couch, head slowly lolling to the side, when he jumped awake. Chevy was barking excitedly in the kitchen. He heard other sounds, and then Stiles appeared in the doorway.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. Dinner is served."

Derek sat up and breathed in deeply. Something smelled excellent. His stomach growled loudly. 

He got up and made his way into the kitchen. There was already a bowl of steaming hot chili waiting for him at the table. Stiles was sitting across from his spot, already scarfing down a bowl himself.

Derek sat down and started shoveling food into his mouth, surely burning the shit out of his tongue. He didn't care. It tasted too delicious to wait for it to cool down.

"This is amazing," he said, in between bites.

"My mom's recipe," Stiles smiled fondly. "It's been torturing me all day, by smelling awesome. Definitely worth the wait though."

"Definitely," Derek agreed. He was too tired to comment about Stiles' mom, though he realized that Stiles had never brought her up before. 

They each had another bowl in content silence. 

As Derek contemplated getting thirds, he looked across at Stiles. "One of these days, I'm going to have to make you dinner as payback."

Stiles mock shuddered. "What are you going to make me? Macaroni and Ramen filled Pop Tarts? What did I ever do to you to deserve that?" 

Derek rolled his eyes. "Lately, I don't have a lot of time to grocery shop, or to cook."

"Obviously," Stiles said. "Good thing I do, right?"

"Right," Derek said. 

They continued to eat in silence, until Stiles spoke again.

"It has to do with that cop that was murdered in the next county over, huh?"

Derek froze, nearly about to take another bite of chili. "What?"

"Your big case," Stiles clarified. "You're helping investigate that case. They suspect it could be a serial killer, going after officers." 

"How do you know about that? That's all still classified information."

Stiles just pointed to his head. "A good detective doesn't give away his sources. Silly Derek."

Derek sighed, defeated. "Dammit."

To his surprise, Stiles' face fell. "So, I'm right then? You and my dad are working on a serial police killer case."

Derek nodded.

Stiles put his head down on the table. "Jesus fucking Christ," his voice was airy. 

Derek didn't quite know what to do or say. He was leaning across the table, about to put his hand on Stiles' shoulder or  _something_ , when Stiles shot back up.

"What's his M.O.?"

Derek needed to super glue his mouth shut, but instead he spilled the information. "All three deaths, shit-" Stiles face seemed to grow a shade of green at the mention of the number three. Derek continued anyway. "All three deaths have been car accidents. We suspect he's been following them and running them off the road. He must study the areas before hand, figure out their routes, because he always causes the accident in an area where it's going to be nearly impossible to survive flying off the road at such a high speed."

Stiles pushed his bowl to the middle of the table. "Do you guys really have to help with it?" He sounded like a very subdued version of himself. It was strange.

Derek nodded. "Yeah, we do. It's already happened in two other counties, Beacon Hill's could be next."

Stiles visibly shuddered. "Promise to be careful. Fuck. I need to call my dad and make him promise-"

"Oh, no-no-no," Derek cut him off. "You are not telling your father that you know. I'm not going down for giving away classified information, Stiles."

"But, I figured it out on my own. And it's my freaking dad we're talking about. He's all I- Shit." Stiles put his head back down on the table.

"Stiles." Derek finally reached across and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Your dad and I always work together. If I'm out without him, he's in the office. He'll be okay. I'll make sure of that, okay? And I'll keep you posted, like text you and stuff so you don't have to worry. Just don't tell him that you know. Please."

Stiles sat up, and Derek let his hand fall to the table top. Stiles nodded and sniffed his nose.

"I'll keep you in the loop as much as I can, okay?" Derek said softly. "It's going to be okay. We're going to catch this one."

"What about you?" Stiles sounded small.

"What about me? I'll be okay too. I'm always very careful. Now more than ever."

Stiles nodded, then groaned. "Ugh. Curiosity killed the fucking cat."

Derek had to laugh at that. "I told you not to figure it out."

"Touché, Hale," Stiles said. His tone was still off, and it made Derek feel strange.

He could feel a yawn building up inside him, and he tried really hard to keep it from happening. His eyes started to water, so finally he couldn't help it. He yawned hugely.

Right on cue, Stiles started to clear the table in silence. Derek had cleaned the Tupperware the pasta had been in the night before, and it was sitting on the counter for Stiles to take home. Instead though, Stiles poured the pot of chili into the Tupperware and then put it into Derek's fridge.

"That should last you a while," Stiles finally said, as he gathered his dirty dishes. He sounded exhausted all of the sudden. "Now, rest up."

He felt bad, like he was taking advantage of Stiles or something. The guy was making him dinner and then all Derek was doing was eating it quickly and going right to bed.

"We could watch a movie or something," Derek said. The last word got lost in a yawn. _Dammit_.

"Let's sun check that one, because you need to go to sleep," Stiles tsked him. Then his face went serious. "Please keep me posted."  


"I will."

* * *

 

Stiles let himself into Derek's house Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He brought all kinds of different homemade foods. 

On Thursday after work, however, Derek let himself in through his side door to find a bag of hot dog buns on the counter with a Post-It note on the package.

 

** There are hot dogs, ketchup and shredded cheese in the fridge, and the chili is still good.  **

** Chilidogs, bon appétit. **

** Stiles**

**P.S. Lock your door!**

 

Derek couldn't help but feel disappointed. Not that Stiles didn't make him dinner, but because Stiles wasn't there sitting at the table across from him. As he ate a couple of chili dogs in silence, he waited in anticipation for his side door to open. He waited in vain though, because Stiles never came. Derek ended up going to sleep, even though he was actually kind of awake and ready to really hang out with Stiles for the first time in the last two weeks.

♢♢♢

** Stiles got home early from his meeting on Friday, and when he walked into the house and heard the sounds that he heard, he turned right around and walked out. **

** He looked next door, and noticed that Derek was home already. He must've had the day off.  **

** Stiles walked over there, tapped quietly on the door, and let himself inside. He locked the door behind him. The house was silent. He walked around and looked into the living room. No one was in there, but he could hear snoring from down the hall. **

** He smiled to himself, and then sat down on the couch and turned on the T.V. He only felt slightly bad for inviting himself inside, but he wasn't about to listen to Scott and Kira doing the do.  **

** He turned the volume to mute and watched annoying people doing annoying things on some reality show.  **

****

* * *

 

** Next thing Stiles knew, he was waking up. There was a soft pillow underneath his head, and he was tangled up in a blanket. He rubbed his eyes until he could see again and then looked around groggily. It was dark in the room. He had passed out on Derek's couch.  _Shit_. **

** Light was beaming out of the kitchen, so he got himself up off of the couch and made his way inside. **

** Derek was sitting at the table, eating a chilidog and drinking a beer. He also had a bowl full of Stiles' homemade macaroni and cheese that he had made Wednesday. **

** Stiles stood in the doorway, and scratched his neck awkwardly. **

** "You're hair looks pretty cool right now," Derek said, acknowledging him.  **

** Stiles jumped slightly, he was still waking up. He quickly reached up and flattened down his hair. **

** "Sorry, for um, hi." Stiles smacked himself internally. His brain was still asleep. **

** Derek looked like he was about to smirk.  **

** Stiles closed his eyes for a second. "Let me try that again. Sorry for breaking in and falling asleep on your couch. And sorry for not making anything for dinner. I got home early today and got sexiled, and then you were asleep and yeah - " he trailed off and yawned. "By the way, lock your door!" **

** "No problem," Derek sighed. Stiles could sense the sarcasm. "I guess I owe you since you've been making me dinner." **

** Stiles was still standing in the doorway. He was staring, he knew he was. But Derek had glasses on and he was reading the newspaper. Stiles sort of just wanted to shove everything off of the table, climb over it, and then kiss him like crazy. **

** "All the leftovers are in the fridge," Derek said, without looking up. He had no idea. "Help yourself to beer, too." **

** Stiles did just that. He got himself a little bit of everything that he had made throughout the week. Mac 'n Cheese, scalloped potatoes, and half of a Philly Cheese-steak sandwich. He popped things into the microwave, and then grabbed a beer. He sipped on it until his food was all evenly warm.  **

** He sat down at the table and started eating. Derek interrupted him, though. **

** "Tomorrow afternoon. We are going grocery shopping." **

** Stiles stopped eating and looked up confusedly. **

** Derek hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You don't have to come if you don't want. I, uh, just figured you would keep me from buying another giant ass box of Ramen." **

** Stiles kept the happy excitement off of his face as he nodded. "Very true. I must be there to supervise." **

** Stiles was eating the last bite of his sandwich when Derek spoke again. **

** "Want to watch a movie? I am actually a functioning being of society today. Things on the case have been really slow the last few days." **

** "Impressive," Stiles said. He was trying not to smile and not to yawn all at once. He was also trying to avoid all thoughts about that stupid, stupid case. For some reason, 'slow' didn't seem good.  **

** Derek cleared the table, and then walked into the living room. Stiles couldn't help but frown slightly when Derek sat down in the recliner, leaving the entire couch for Stiles to sit on alone.  **

** Derek navigated through Netflix and they picked out a movie fairly quickly. Stiles probably made it through exactly five minutes of it before he was curling into a ball on the couch and falling asleep.  **

♢♢♢ 

Derek smiled at a sleeping Stiles. He didn't wake him, just turned off the movie and went to go sleep in his own room. He set his alarm for 10:30. He was going to sleep in and get rejuvenated. Then tomorrow he would go shopping with Stiles and make them a really great dinner. Stiles only knew the first part though, so the dinner would be a surprise. 

Derek hit snooze a few times, so he didn't come out of his room showered and ready until noon. He could hear Stiles moving about the kitchen. The T.V. was on in the living room, and the blanket was folded on the couch.

He walked into the kitchen, and was greeted by a hot cup of coffee and an empty plate. Stiles was already skirting across the kitchen, so he let his eyes follow. A full breakfast - eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, pancakes - were all waiting for him on the counter.

He smiled down at his coffee, and then looked back to Stiles. "I kinda slept through breakfast," he said, sheepishly.

Stiles shrugged. "I can't sleep in anymore. Heard your alarm go off so I started cooking. It's your first meal of the day, therefore, breakfast."

Derek wasn't about to argue with that. He started to fill his plate with delicious food.

Stiles was all smiles and happiness. Derek was still groggy and trying to wake up. Oversleeping was almost a worse feeling than not getting enough sleep. He couldn't remember a time that he actually found that perfect medium and got just the right amount of sleep.

"You better wake up, big guy," Stiles said. He smacked his hand loudly on the table and Derek might have jumped a little at that. Stiles snickered. "You need to be awake for this lesson in superb grocery shopping."

"Grocery Shopping One-Oh-One," Derek said.

Stiles laughed, which made Derek smile. 

When they finished eating, they said goodbye to Chevy and then climbed into Derek's Toyota. 

When they got to the store, Derek was all habit. He grabbed a cart and headed straight to the row with all the food he could make on a stove in under eight minutes.

"No-no-no. " Stiles pushed the end of the cart in the opposite direction so that Derek couldn't turn down that aisle. "Let's start over here," he pointed towards the fresh veggies and fruits. 

Derek grumbled about it, but on the inside he was smiling.

They walked up and down every row. Stiles picked out some stuff for him to make, and Derek threw in his own items. He was going to make prime rib and baked potatoes that night for he and Stiles.

They were bypassing some of the aisles they didn’t need, when Stiles froze in his tracks for a moment. 

"Shit," Stiles hissed. "Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit. What the fuck." 

He ducked behind Derek, and then pulled them down the random aisle they were passing by.

Derek was confused. He had no idea what had even set Stiles off. He looked him once over, and decided that Stiles looked as though he had just seen a ghost. He was about to ask what was wrong when someone interrupted.

"Stiles Stilinski?" a guy said.

Derek turned to look at him, and Stiles moved his head to look around Derek's shoulder. The guy was tall and blonde and seemed to just scream: "I'm a douchebag". He was looking straight at Stiles, which made Derek stiffen just a little. He stood up taller, and accidentally-on-purpose hid Stiles from view again. 

"Shopping for your baby, Stilinski?" the guy said, smirking at the end. "You always did seem like the settling down type."

Derek glanced around to see that Stiles had chosen the baby aisle to hide in. As he was distracted, he almost missed Stiles inching his way out into the open. He was now taking a step forward, towards the guy.

"Nope. No babies for Stiles," he said, his words spilling out quickly. "Just, uh, just looking for crayons for my classroom."

"You came all the way to Beacon Hills to buy crayons?" The guy raised an eyebrow curiously. Who  _was  _this guy? Derek was getting bad vibes all over the place.

"No, idiot. I live here now. Actually, I live right next to your old place. Weird, huh? The real question is, why are  _you _ here?" Stiles said everything without taking a breath.

Wheels clicked in Derek's mind for a few seconds until he finally put two and two together. This was the infamous James. They guy that sold Derek his house (he had only ever met the realtor in person, not James). The guy Stiles had originally broken in the house to surprise the first time they had met. He cleared his throat - completely unintentionally - from behind Stiles.

"Shit, sorry, man," Douchebag said, taking his eyes off of Stiles for a moment to meet Derek's glare. He thrust his hand across the negative space, towards Derek. "I'm James."

"Derek," he said. They shook hands, and Derek made sure his grip was extremely strong. He had to smile on the inside when he saw James' stoic expression falter infinitesimally for a split second.

James broke their eye contact and looked back to Stiles. "I had a few days off in a row, so I came to visit. Saw your dad earlier at the station."

"Oh, uh, cool," Stiles said. He was pushing his hands deep into his pockets and shuffling his feet uncomfortably. "When do you go back?"

"Tomorrow around noon. We should get dinner tonight. I was going to call you in case you happened to be in town, but this just worked out great. Must be a sign. We need to talk though. I feel like I need to right a few wrongs. The karma is all off."

Derek watched as Stiles opened his mouth to speak a few times, but never found the right words. Finally, Stiles nodded, and Derek wanted to smack him. This guy was a dick. Stiles was not going to go have dinner with this prick. There was no way. 

"I'll call you tonight," James said, with a smile and a wave of his hand. Then he was gone.

Stiles didn't move. He was looking at the floor. "What the fuck?" he said quietly. Then he perked his head up and looked at Derek. "Where were we? Oh right, we need aisle 9." Then he grabbed the end of the cart and pulled Derek along as though nothing had happened.

Neither of them mentioned the encounter for the rest of the trip, but Derek couldn't help but think about it. He was annoyed at how much had James affected Stiles. And the fact that Stiles had kind of maybe agreed to meet up with him later just didn't sit right with Derek. He didn't want Stiles to get hurt, and obviously this guy had hurt Stiles more than anyone before. He wasn't going to let Stiles walk right into that pain again. A  _friend_ wouldn't allow for that.

Derek was driving them home when he couldn't stand it anymore. Stiles was staring out the window, and still hadn't said a word.

"You're not really going to go to dinner with that guy, are you?"

Stiles stumbled over his words a few times. "Yes. No. Yes. No. I don’t know."

His initial response had been a yes. Derek clenched his jaw tightly.

"I want to give him a piece of my mind," Stiles finally whispered.

Derek pulled into his driveway, but stayed in the parked car. He looked at Stiles. "Just call him and do it."

Stiles hunched over, cradling his face in his hands. "I can't."

Derek rolled his eyes. "If you need some liquid confidence, be my guest. My fridge is soon to be stocked."

Stiles laughed, but Derek could tell it was fake. "I might have to take you up on that later."

Derek climbed out of his car, and Stiles did the same. They made several trips to bring in all of the groceries, and then Stiles helped him find places for everything in silence.

Derek had to break the silence yet again. "If I were you," Derek tried, "I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting to see you. Either just blatantly ignore him and let it be, or call him and tell him to fuck off."

Stiles was sitting at the kitchen table, aimlessly petting Chevy.

"Yeah, you're right," Stiles finally said. "I don't want to see him anyway. He sucks."

Derek smiled. _Victory_. "If you need some moral support, you've got me and  Chev."

Chevy perked up at the sound of his name and licked Stiles right on the cheek.

♢♢♢

** Stiles really didn't want to see James. He was just embarrassed about earlier. He had been so caught off guard. His head was reeling in embarrassment. He looked like a fool, like an idiot, and now James was probably sitting in his hotel room or wherever the hell he was staying, thinking that he was the winner. **

**Stiles just hated the way that he let James affect him still. **

** He thought about what Derek had said, and decided that he was right. He shouldn't give James the satisfaction.  **

** He pulled out his phone and typed out a text to James. He hit send before the more stupid parts of him changed his mind. **

S: No dinner tonight.

** He turned his phone off and put it back in his pocket. He was about to say something to Derek, when he yawned loudly instead. **

** Derek was sitting across from him, messing around on his phone. He looked up and met Stiles' eyes. **

** "You look tired," Derek said. **

** And he was. He was so tired, which didn't make much sense seeing that he fell asleep super early the night before after taking a longass nap. But he was tired, and now that the feeling had been pointed out, his eyelids felt heavy, and his mind seemed foggy. **

** "I might go home and nap for a little," he said, getting up from his chair. "What's on the menu for tonight, Chef?" he joked. **

** "Don’t know. What are you making us?" Derek raised an eyebrow. **

** Stiles snorted a laugh. "Take out it is then. I'm officially off cooking duty for a few days." **

** "I guess I'll come get you when dinner's ready," Derek finally said, with a melodramatic sigh.  **

** "Yesssss," Stiles said, smiling. Then he left Derek's and headed to his house. **

* * *

 

** He was asleep, face smashed into his pillow, when something made him jolt awake. He heard the front door, and then a chair being pulled out from under the kitchen table. _Derek_ , he thought with a smile. He grabbed jeans and a flannel and headed straight to the bathroom to clean up a little bit. **

** "Dude, you better've made something awesome for dinner, because Stiles is fungry," he said, as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen. **

** Derek didn’t respond. **

** Stiles turned the corner into the kitchen and spotted not Derek sitting at the kitchen table, but James. **

** "Fuck," he whispered under his breath. **

** "Didn't know I was supposed to make you dinner," James said. "Actually you specifically asked for no dinner tonight." **

** Stiles pulled out the chair across from James and sat down. "That wasn't really an invite for you to break into my house." **

** James shrugged. "Didn’t break in. Your door was unlocked. Also, you're not really one to talk." **

** Stiles closed his eyes and let out an annoyed huff of air. ** **"Why can't you just leave me alone?" he accidentally said out loud.   **

** James cocked his head to the side for a moment, and then blatantly ignored the question. "You're dad was awfully cold to me this morning. Actually, most of the station was." **

** Stiles let out a fake laugh. "Maybe that's because they all know that you're a dick?" **

** "Come on, Stiles. What kind of stories did you tell them about me? You turned me into a pariah." **

** Stiles pulled his shoulders up to his ears and raised his eyebrows. "Just told my dad the truth. I think that was enough." **

♢♢♢

Derek decided that dinner would be done within thirty minutes. He tried to call Stiles to let him know, but his phone was off. 

He headed out front to go let Stiles know at home. There was a car parked outside. He instantly felt a little bad. It was probably Kira, and he had only made enough food for he and Stiles, and some for Stiles to bring home to Scott. He would have to throw on another steak when he got back to the house.

While Stiles had been napping, Derek had gotten a call from work. He was going to have to ask Stiles to watch Chevy for an extended, yet unknown period of time. He had to go out of town to help with the big case he had been working hard on, and was probably going to be gone until some sort of resolution was reached. Of course Stiles was going to say yes, but it was still common courtesy to ask. He was also glad he would get to see Stiles one more time before he had to leave... bright and early the next morning.

He was about to let himself inside when he heard muffled voices. He peeked through the window, and noticed two people sitting at the kitchen table. They were too engrossed in conversation to notice him standing there, outside.

Stiles and James.

They were talking, and Stiles didn't look upset. Stiles actually almost looked kind of happy.

Derek's jaw clenched, his fingers balled into fists. He puffed out a quick burst of air through his nose.

Of course Stiles didn't listen to him. And now he was hanging out with that asshole. Why had he thought that Stiles was actually going to take his advice? Stiles probably didn't even come home and nap. He probably came home to call James and invite him over.

He was still standing there, watching Stiles exude happiness towards that dickhead. He was starting to feel just slightly creepy, like a peeping Tom or something. He walked back towards his house. 

He would just text Stiles later about watching Chevy. 

Or he could call his sister Cora and ask her if he could leave Chevy with her for a while. Yes. He would just ask Cora. Stiles was obviously too busy.

♢♢♢ 

** Stiles was so pissed, but he was hiding it. Not well at all, either, but that was on purpose. He was being as fake as he possibly could be, and he could tell that James was getting more and more annoyed. This was all part of his plan. And yeah, his plans usually sucked ass and often times ended up embarrassing himself to new extremes, but this time his plan was going to work. It had to work. He had to win the break-up. **

** He wasn't even listening to James ramble on and on. He was just throwing in random snide, overzealous remarks every now and then. Like: "Oh really?!" "Oh wow." "How crazy is that?" "Who knew?" **

** And stupid fucking James just kept on talking. Stiles was finally brought back to the conversation when James had the audacity to bring up Derek. **

** “So was that your boyfriend with you at the store? You two looked awfully domestic.” **

** Stiles’ façade crumbled slightly and he sighed. “No," he said, and then he cursed himself silently. He should have freaking said yes. Why hadn't he said yes? “He’s actually my neighbor.” Stiles plastered his fake smile back on his face. "He's great. A lot better than what I was expecting I was going to have to live next to." **

** “So you're single?” **

** Stiles nodded slowly. "Technically, but Derek and I are - " **

** James cut him off before he could save his earlier flub. “I am too.” **

** Stiles snorted out a laugh. “What’d you do? Get caught cheating again?” **

** James sighed. He plastered a very obviously fake sad expression on his face. “I fucked up big time. I fucked up my karma so bad. I can't make anything stick now, and I think it’s because I need to make things better with you. So, sorry?” His tone made the apology a question.  **

** Stiles stared at him blankly for a few seconds, absorbing the words. Then he busted out laughing. James’ face morphed into some expression of confusion and anger. **

** “Wow dude, for a second there I thought that you were maybe a half-decent human being, but nope, nothing has changed. It’s the _Nothing But James Show_  as always.” **

** “What?” **

** Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically. “I'm not going to accept your apology to quote-unquote _fix your karma_. You don’t have bad karma, James. You’re just a dick.” Stiles stood up from the table. “Now you should probably get out of my house, because I am expecting some pretty steamy sex in about - ” he looked at his phone  even though it was still turned off “ - five minutes, with a certain hot neighbor.” **

** As he spoke, he turned his phone on and shot Derek a quick text. **

S:  Come save me. RIGHT. NOW.

** “But,” James stammered. He was still sitting in his chair. “Everything was cool like two minutes ago - ” **

** Stiles cut him off. “It’s called acting, something you're really good at. Figured your expertise would allow you to notice it.” **

** James just glared at him. “Stiles.” **

** “Can you just go? Sexy-times commencing in literally like three minutes now. I don’t have time for this kind of buzz-kill.” **

** James stood up and shoved the chair into the table. “Whatever. I tried.” He walked out of the house and bumped right into Derek. **

** Stiles snickered, as he watched everything unfold. **

** Derek grabbed James’ shoulder to straighten him up. He looked at him condescendingly for a moment. Stiles was about to lose it. “Sure you're okay to drive there, buddy?” **

** James glared at Derek. “Enjoy your _fuck_ , although I’d get out while you still can.”  **

** Stiles could feel Derek’s eyes on him, but he was watching James who was giving him one last dirty look before turning on his heel and walking to his car.**

**When he was gone, Stiles turned to Derek. “Thanks man. I kind of told him that we were going to hook up right now, so he needed to leave.” **

** “What?” Derek said, but then he continued talking before Stiles could respond. “Never mind. Glad I could help. I need to go to bed though, big day tomorrow. Here.** **” **

** He was carrying Stiles' Tupperware under his arm. He handed it to Stiles without making eye contact.  **

** "There's enough in there for Scott and Kira, too. Didn't know James was going to be here or I would have made enough for all four of you." **

** "Derek," Stiles said. But he was already walking across the yard, back home. "Fuck." **

** Stiles walked inside and put the food in the fridge. He left a Post-It note on the Tupperware for Scott, letting him know he could help himself. Then he went to his room and fell flat onto his bed.  **

** He tried to let all of the stress he had accumulated ease out of him. He set his alarm for 6 AM and then got lost in his head for a while before finally falling into a restless sleep. **

♢♢♢

Derek wasn’t upset because Stiles had hung out with James. He wasn’t. He was just upset over the fact that he had gotten even slightly mad about it earlier. The more this festered in his mind, the more and more he realized that it made absolutely no sense. But, still, he continued to sit on his couch and be upset about being upset anyway. 

It's not like Stiles was _his_. Stiles wasn't his, and never had been his. 

He didn't even  _like _ Stiles. The kid annoyed him, and broke into his house on multiple accounts for Christ's sake. He didn’t like Stiles. He didn’t want him. And he wasn’t mad about Stiles and James. Not one bit. Not at all. Stiles was an idiot.

At least that was what he was going to have on a constant loop reeling over and over in his head all night, until he believed it.   


Now he was glad that he had to leave town for a while. He was also glad Stiles didn’t know about it. He needed time away to clear his mind. This place was making him confused. He didn’t like Stiles. And time away with a lot of work was the perfect way to start reminding himself of that.


	11. attacked

**Stiles woke up the next morning cranky. He went to work and tried his hardest to keep his patience from wearing thin. During lunch, he stayed in his classroom and pulled out his phone. Derek had been on his mind all morning, and it was time Stiles texted him about the night before. He also really needed his daily update about his dad's and Derek's well-being.**

 

S: Sorry I didn’t make it over for dinner last night. James was sitting at my kitchen table when I got up from my nap. The food was great. I'll make it up to you tonight. What's your favorite food ever? 

 

 **Stiles didn’t even eat lunch. He just spent the time staring at his phone, yearning for it to go off.**  

 **It didn’t.**  

 **And eventually he had to go pick up the kids from the cafeteria. He put his phone back on silent and slid it into his desk. He would just call Derek after school and ask him then.**  

 

* * *

 

 **After school, Stiles made it to his Jeep. Once he was safely inside - hiding from all his students that were screaming "BYE MR. S" - he pulled out his phone and dialed Derek. The call rang forever, until he finally got the voicemail.**  

 **He was about to hang up, but the voicemail box was now Derek's voice, and not the usual automated message. He listened.**  

 **"Hi, you have reached Derek Hale. If this call is important, I can be reached through an extension by means of calling the station. Thanks."**  

 **Then the phone beeped loudly in Stiles' ear.**  

 ** _Shit_** **.**  

 **He frantically tried to end the call. His phone slipped from his fingers and fell down between his feet and onto the Jeep floor. He crossed his fingers as he reached down and picked it up.**  

 **He had ended the call before it fell. Thank goodness.**  

 **As he drove home, his crankiness from earlier was relit. Mostly, his nerves were just disguised by false anger. When he got home, Derek's car was missing from the driveway and all the doors were locked. He let himself into Derek's backyard.**  

 **"Chevy," he called. He even poked his head inside the dog door and called again. "Chevy."**  

 **The house was silent - empty.**  

 **Stiles was tempted to squeeze through the tiny rectangle in the wall and go inside. Maybe there would be some clues as to where Derek was.**  

**He finally decided against it. He called his dad instead. He just needed to make sure that they were both safe.**

**He called his dad's cell. The phone rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail too. The greeting was his dad saying something similar to Derek. Stiles hung up before the greeting was finished. After a minute, he got a text.**  

 

SS: Aiding some cops in the county. Not in BH. Call you soon. 

 

**Stiles sighed and shoved his phone roughly into his pocket. Whatever. His dad probably wouldn’t tell him where they were anyway. At least he was okay.**

**He went inside, cracked open a beer, and then settled down on the couch to watch a movie, a.k.a. take a nap.**  

 

♢♢♢

 

Derek was way too busy to deal with Stiles right now. He wanted to turn his phone off, or leave it in his Toyota, but he couldn’t. His phone seemed to constantly be ringing lately. 

They were close to closing the case. He could feel it. They were getting more and more information (thanks to him, but he wasn’t about to brag about it). They were searching for a 30 year old male in a green SUV. He had been spotted in Beacon County just the day before, by an anonymous witness.  

Derek had way too much on his plate to worry about the drama he had helped to create between he and Stiles. Although trying not to think of it was just a roundabout way of thinking about it.  

He couldn’t afford to be distracted. He needed to be vigilant.

Whenever his thoughts traveled to Stiles, he just had to picture Stiles sitting at the kitchen table with James. Then he would get mad and would want to think about anything else  _but_  Stiles. 

 

♢♢♢

 

**Stiles went the entire rest of week without bugging Derek. He was damn proud of himself. This feat, however also meant that he went the entire rest of the week without hearing from Derek, whatsoever. Because of course Derek hadn't called him back, or shot him a text. To combat his worrying thoughts, he texted his dad several times daily, just to ask if things were okay. They always were.**

**By Saturday night, all he wanted to do was sit in front of the T.V. and sulk, and he was going to do just that.**  

 **"Dude." Scott's voice was loud in his ear. He hadn't even heard Scott come in. "Get off your ass and come out with us tonight. We can take a cab to and from. I'll pay."**  

 **Stiles looked up to see Scott and Kira smiling eagerly down at him.**  

 **"I like my sweatpants," Stiles mumbled.**  

 **"Then wear them," Scott shrugged. "One thing's for sure though, and it's that you aren't spending the _whole_  weekend being lame."** 

 **"Come with us," Kira said, with a smile.**  

 **Stiles groaned and leaned his head back onto the couch. "Third-wheeling is not my strong point. Especially right now. A grumpy drunk Stiles is the last thing you'd want to subject your girlfriend to, Scott."**  

 **Scott sat down on one side of the couch and Kira plopped down on the other side. They both sat super close to Stiles - arm to arm.**  

 **"Fine," Scott sighed, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "We don’t have to go out. We can all just hang out here."**  

 **Stiles didn’t say a word. He just let the silence fester for a while, hoping that Scott would give up and just go out without him. They watched T.V. in uncomfortably close silence for thirty minutes, until Stiles finally couldn’t take it anymore.**  

 **He always caved.**  

 **"Ugh," he said, getting up. "Fine I'll go. Let me shower first."**  

 **Kira let out a long sigh of relief.**  

 **She and Scott high fived.**  

 **Stiles groaned.**  

 

* * *

 

 **They were downtown, and they were all a little drunk. Stiles, actually, was a lotta drunk.**  

 **So drunk that he didn’t care about Derek anymore.**  

 **He didn’t care about anything.**  

 **Fucking nothing at all.**  

**Not even the fact that he was on the dance floor without his friends, looking like an idiot.**

**Nope. Tonight he was the fucking Dancing Queen as far as he was concerned.**  

 **It felt good - the tingling through his body from all of the alcohol, and the loud music pulsing through him.**  

 **At first he didn’t notice when all the lights came on in the bar. As he was dancing, he slowly realized the music had stopped too.**  

 **"What the fuck," he grumbled. _What a fucking buzz-kill_.**  

 **He was about to find someone who ran the establishment to see what the fuck was going on, but he was intercepted by Scott and Kira.**  

 **"Alright man. Closing time. Let's get a cab."**  

 **All of Stiles' hopes and dreams were crushed right in front of him. His face crumpled in sadness. "Whaaaaat? It's already 2?"**  

 **Scott nodded and pulled Stiles along.**  

 **They got into a cab and Stiles continued to jam out to the weird music the driver was playing. He wasn’t about to let a closed bar ruin his night.**  

 **"When we get home, we are definitely shotgunning beers. Prepare yourselves."**  

 **Kira groaned. Scott wrapped his arm around her.**  

 **"I think we're done for the night, man."**  

 **"Fine," Stiles growled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He would just shotgun a fucking beer alone then.**  

 **Scott and Kira went to bed right when they got inside. For a moment, Stiles was slightly worried about being left without supervision (he was known to wander), but that fear was quickly washed away by a beer and another shot of vodka.**  

 **He wanted another beer. He went back into the fridge and noticed that he had drunk their only one.**  

 **That's when he got the most brilliant idea ever.**  

**Derek's fridge was stocked with beer. He remembered. He had picked some out at the store the morning before.**

**He quietly snuck out of his house and into Derek's backyard. He easily made it through the dog door, being a lot more flexible when drunk. He would probably have bruises in the morning, but he didn't care even a little bit.**  

 **Once inside, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and then plopped down onto the couch. He got his phone out and snapped a picture of himself drinking Derek's beer on Derek's couch inside Derek's house. Then he sent it to the man himself. The accompanying text said:**  

 

S: Wish you were here. 

 

 **After the message was sent, he was filled with immense regret. He wanted to un-send it. Why wasn’t that a thing yet. Someone really needed to get on that idea-train and start fucking inventing it. He finished his beer quickly and grabbed another one. He checked his phone every thirty seconds, seeing if he had a response, but who was he kidding. It was way too late. Derek was surely asleep.**  

 **By 4:30 in the morning, Stiles had done some solid work on Derek's beer stock. He was fucked up. Like embarrassingly so. When he tripped on his way to get another beer, he crawled himself back to the couch empty handed. He was done.**  

 **He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to be here. He was too lonely here, without Derek. And everything made him think of Derek. He missed him. And he wanted him. He needed him to come home.**  

 **He couldn’t find it in himself to get off the couch though, so he did the next best thing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Derek.**  

 **He listened to the phone ring loudly in his ear until he got Derek's voicemail.**  

 **"Hi, Derek. I mean, Deputy Hale, sir," he slurred into the phone. "I'm fucking drunk. Like a lot. And I would like to report a crime. I broke into your house through Chevy's door. And I am stealing your beer and sleeping on your couch and I just really miss you. I miss you as much as I am drunk right now. And I'm really fucking drunk. Does that make sense? Fuck, no it doesn’t. Maybe it does. I don’t know. But I do know that I miss you, and I want to make you dinner, and I want to babysit Chevy, and I want to make sure you don’t go buying more shitty food. I just miss you a lot and not because I'm drunk. I miss you because I like you. Fuck. Oops. Uh. Sorry. Just come home. Bye."**  

 **He ended the call before he could embarrass the shit out of himself any more thoroughly than he already had.**  

 **He buried his head under a pillow and _did not_ cry. Nope. At least he wouldn’t remember that he had in the morning. He hoped that he wouldn’t remember the ass he had just made of himself, but deep down he knew that he would. It would all come back to bite him in the ass whether he remembered it or not.** 

 

♢♢♢ 

 

Derek finally had five minutes to himself. He was stopped, grabbing some dinner at a fast food place. His phone had been burning a hole in his pocket all day long. 

Initially, he had been pissed when he opened the picture of a very intoxicated Stiles sitting on his couch, but his anger had subsided quickly. He had to laugh about it. He shouldn’t have expected anything less than Stiles breaking into his house while he was gone. He should have covered the fucking dog door. 

He also had a voicemail from Stiles that he had received early that morning. He wanted to listen to it. He wanted to know what Stiles had to say, and more so, he just wanted to hear Stiles' voice in his ear. 

As he waited for his food, he hit play and listened. 

"Hi, Derek. I mean, Deputy Hale, sir..." 

A huge grin grew across his face as he listened to Stiles' words. 

He was about to call Stiles back when his phone started to ring. He answered the call and listened. He needed to report to the station ASAP. It was urgent. Another anonymous witness had just called in. 

He got in his cruiser and started to make his way back... 

He was about halfway there, alone on the road, when a car cut in right behind him seemingly out of nowhere. Their headlights were off, and they were right on his ass. 

He squinted into his mirror.

From what he could tell, the car was green. A green SUV. The driver seemed to match their description flawlessly.

He radioed in.  

He was being followed by their perp. This was bad. Super fucking bad. He was the next fucking target.

As Derek spoke into the radio, the SUV rammed into his car, and he jolted forward, his jaw hitting the steering wheel roughly. Before he had the chance to do anything else the SUV hit him again, this time only on the left taillight. He was jolted forward again, head hitting hard on the steering wheel this time. His car spun out. He spun the wheel hard, cutting back and trying to regain control. He managed to make contact with the SUV causing both cars to spin out across the lane of traffic to their left. Then both vehicles went careening off of the road. Derek barely missed the guardrail, and then dropped off down a somewhat steep hill on the left side of the road. Derek knew this stretch of highway, and the right side that he had just avoided driving off of was basically a cliff. 

His eyes were squeezed shut, his body being jostled around inside the car. 

There was a loud sound of metal being crushed. 

And then there was stillness, silence, and pain. Lots and lots of pain. 

He came to for a moment. He could hear sirens. Thank god he had radioed in. Thank goodness he had veered to the left.

He reached his right arm across his body - his left side hurt far too badly - and reached for his radio.

Around the loud ringing in his ears, he warned his fellow cops that the suspect was somewhere in the vicinity with him.

Then he tried to open his door. 

It was stuck shut. He could only see darkness out of the window.  

He was wrapped around a tree or something. 

He leaned across the car reached for the passenger side door.  

Sharp horrendous pain shot through his left side and he cried out. His vision blurred. 

He heard people running, shouting, calling for him. 

He would be saved in a moment.  

He closed his eyes and let the world go dark. 

 

♢♢♢ 

 

 **Stiles was on his way to work when he heard the news report. The perp going after officers had been caught just outside of town, thanks to the Beacon Hills P.D. There was, however, a seriously injured officer. Rushed to a not-mentioned hospital in a not-mentioned town somewhat near to Beacon County.**  

 **As the words were planted into his mind, he began to worry.**  

**His dad was out of town for a case. Derek was out of town for a case. And it was surely _the_ case. The fucking serial cop killer case. **

**What if...**

**No.**

**He pulled off into a random neighborhood and parked on the side of the road.**  

 **He called his dad. Got the voicemail. Forgot how to breath for a moment, until his lungs pleaded with him for air.**  

 **His phone vibrated. The text was from his dad. He finally sucked delicious air into his lungs.**  

 

SS: I'm fine. Wasn’t me don’t worry. Caught our guy. Can't talk. Will call soon. 

S: Love you, dad. 

SS: Love you too son. 

 

 **Then he called Derek. The call didn’t even ring. It just sent him straight to voicemail. He called again. Got the voicemail. Called again, and again, and again. Voicemail every single time.**  

 **He tried to calm himself down. Just because Derek wasn’t answering his phone wasn’t proof that he was the injured cop. He hadn't been answering any of Stiles' calls since he had left town. This wasn’t new behavior or anything.**  

 **He couldn’t seem to get himself to breathe normally though, so he dialed Scott.**  

 **He explained the situation in haste.**  

 **"Stiles, I'm sure everything is fine. Whoever it was is going to be okay."**  

 **"But Derek's phone is off. I've called like a hundred times. It goes straight to voicemail. He never turns it off, even when he's asleep."**  

 **"Maybe it died, or he lost it, or he isn't by it or near a place to charge it. It's all okay. It's going to be okay. Where are you?"**  

 **"Random neighborhood near work."**  

 **"Need me to come get you. You can call in a sub."**  

 **Stiles rattled his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I'll go. It'll be a good distraction until he calls me back."**  

 **"That's the spirit," Scott said. "Text me when you get to work safe."**  

 **"Will do," Stiles sighed. Then he hung up the phone and rested his head on the steering wheel, easing himself into normal breathing.**  

 

* * *

 

 **The entire school day was a blur. He had declared that it was movie and crafts day. He was too distracted for anything else.**  

 **He kept calling Derek, all day long, and every call went straight to voicemail.**  

 **He was in bed at 10:30 that night when his dad finally called him.**  

 **"Dad. Are you really okay?"**  

 **"Fine, just really needing some sleep. It's crazy over here."**  

 **"Is everyone okay? Where are you guys?"**  

 **His dad hesitated a moment before responding. "I can't disclose anything right now, Son."**  

 **"Come on, Dad."**  

 **"Stiles, I can't. Not yet."**  

 **"Who was it? Who got hurt? Was it one of your guys? Are they going to be okay?"**  

 **"They're going to be okay," his dad said, avoiding all the other questions.**  

 **"Who is it, dad?"**  

 **"I can't disclose that right now, Stiles. I'm sorry, but I really can't."**  

 **"It was Derek Hale, huh?"**  

 **The line went silent.**  

 **His dad cleared his throat before responding. "I can't disclose that right now."**  

 **He took the long silence as an admission. His chest tightened and his stomach churned.**  

 **"Fuck," Stiles said, sucking in a loud, shaking breath.**  

 **"Crap," his dad said.**  

 **"It was him. I know it's him. Shit." His breathing started to accelerate.**  

 **"Stiles." His dad's voice was serious.**  

 **"Is he going to be okay, Dad?" He sounded like a small, sad child. "I don’t want to lose someone else. I can't."**  

 **His dad sighed loud and long into the phone. Finally, he spoke. "He's going to be okay. I promise."**  

 **Somehow, this information did not make Stiles feel any better. It just enhanced his panic. Hearing that made it real. It really was Derek.**  

 **"What happened," Stiles asked, between breaths.**  

 **"Car wreck. He has a broken arm and leg and a pretty gnarly concussion. He's gotta have a couple surgeries to straighten his arm and to pin his leg. He's going to be okay though, Stiles. I talked with him this morning. We also think we have our guy in custody."**  

 **Stiles hated himself for a second as the next words left his mouth. "Did Derek say anything about me?"**  

 **His dad hesitated. "He said not to tell you. Knew you'd worry."**  

 **"Where is he? I need to see him."**  

 **"I can't tell you that, Stiles. Not yet. We're being very careful right now, just to be safe. He'll be home soon, though. After a little monitoring and recovery."**  

 **"But." Stiles was having a hard time thinking of words, or really of anything. "But, I care about him. A lot."**  

 **His dad sighed. Stiles knew that this was hard for him, keeping information from his panicking son.**  

 **"I know, kiddo. Actually, I _didn’t_ know, but I do now. He's okay. He's going to be home soon. Just go get some rest. He doesn't want you to worry."** 

 **Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh. "Right. Good one, Dad."**  

 **"Love you, Stiles. I gotta get a few hours of sleep though."**  

 **"Love you too, Dad. Be careful."**  

 **The line cut off. Stiles started to shake. He pulled his knees into his chest and held himself tightly. After a minute, Scott burst into his room.**  

 **"You're dad just called me. Told me to come make sure you were fine? Is everything cool?"**  

 **Stiles just shook his head no. Stared at Scott. Watched as wheels clicked in his head for a moment.**  

 **"Oh, shit. It was Derek?"**  

 **Stiles nodded.**  

 **Scott walked over and sat on the edge of Stiles' bed. Stiles sat himself up next to Scott. He rested his head in his hands. Scott smacked a hand on Stiles' shoulder.**  

 **"It's going to be okay though. He's going to be fine." Stiles said. He leaned back into Scott's touch and was wrapped into a hug. "I want to go see him now. My dad wont tell me where they are."**  

 **"I'm sure he'll get to come home soon, man."**  

 **Stiles finally fell asleep, repeating Scott's words in his head over and over again until he believed them.**  

 

♢♢♢

 

A week in the hospital was really starting to wear on Derek. He was done being poked and prodded and studied by everyone that came into his room. He was ready to go home. 

He needed to see Stiles. He was positive that Stiles had to have figured everything out. And he needed to talk to him. He needed to tell him that he was okay. That _they_ were okay.

His phone was a mangled piece of garbage, and he didn’t have Stiles' number committed to memory. He only saw the sheriff a few times, and every time he had been on a shit ton of pain medication and had not remembered to ask for Stiles' number. 

Thank goodness he was getting to go home the next morning. He would get to attend physical therapy and follow up appointments in Beacon Hills.  

He would also get to see Stiles. 

Derek couldn’t wait.


	12. wanted

**It had been a week. A fucking week. And the only knowledge that Stiles had about Derek came by way of cryptic text messages sent by his own dad. They mostly just restated the same thing over and over again: Derek is okay and will be home soon.**  

 **Even then, Stiles was only partially reassured.**  

 **Stiles finally decided that hunting down the hospital where Derek was would be pointless in the long run. It wasn’t like anyone would let him in to visit. He wasn’t family. He wasn’t really anything to him at all, apart from being Derek's annoying neighbor. Thinking that Derek would even want to see him at this kind of time was total wishful thinking on Stiles' part.**  

 **Also, it was probably for the best. Stiles and hospitals did not mix well. He'd probably've had a panic attack or five before even making it to Derek's room.**  

**He just needed to suck it up and be patient. Derek was going to be okay, and Stiles was going to visit him the second he got home.**

**His Friday had been completely unproductive - much like the rest of the week. He just had too much on his mind. The kids weren't complaining though, they had gotten to do a craft and watch a video every day that week.**  

 **He left work the same way he had every other stressful day: repeating under his breath, "This is the day. Derek's gonna be home today."**  

 **When he parked in his driveway, he got out hastily and had to blink his eyes quite a few times to make sure that they weren't playing tricks on him.**  

 **Derek's Toyota was parked in the driveway.**  

 **Stiles didn’t even drop his things off inside or go in to change, he just threw his backpack back into his Jeep and hauled ass over to the car.**  

 **He closed his eyes and reached out his hand, fingers outstretched.**  

 **When he felt the cold, slick paint of the car, he couldn’t help but smile.**  

 **Derek was really there.**  

 **It wasn’t a mirage.**  

 **He was really home.**  

 **Stiles ran over, banged on the front door, tried the handle. It was locked. He waited, but no one came.**  

 **He tried the side door, but the outcome was the same. _Of course_.**  

**Derek could be at the doctors, he thought. But then he let himself into the backyard anyway. He could surprise Derek at his kitchen table if that were the case. If he would've known Derek was actually going to be home, he would have baked some cookies or gotten him a balloon or _something._**

**He tried the back door just for shits and giggles, but it was locked.**  

 **He glared down at the dog door: his fucking archnemesis. He still had bruises on his arms and hips from squeezing himself through there during his drunken adventure the weekend prior.**  

 **He needed to do it though. He needed to do it for Derek. He kept telling himself that, using it as motivation. His real motivation, however, was just the possibility of _seeing_  Derek. That was enough. That was all he needed. Visual proof that he was really going to be okay.** 

 **He got on the ground and started squeezing his tall frame through the dog door.**  

 **"Shit," he groaned, as he re-bruised all of his sore spots. "Fuck. Ow."**  

 **After a bit of a struggle, he was in a clump on Derek's floor.**  

**He could hear footsteps approaching so he quickly stood up and brushed himself clean of Chevy hairs that were now stuck all over his clothes. He struggled to quickly tuck his dress-shirt back in.**

**"What the hell?" a female voice said. Then there was a girl standing in the doorway. She was younger than Derek for sure. Probably Stiles' age or close to it.**  

 **She raised her fists towards her face, crouching into a fighting stance. She glared at Stiles.**  

 **"Derek," the girl shouted. "Call the cops. Some asshole just broke in." Then she narrowed her eyes at Stiles and somehow nearly growled. Stiles was scared yet impressed. "Take one step near me and I'll knock you out. Don’t even fucking test me, asshole."**  

 **"Cora, it's fine." Stiles could hear Derek's voice. He sounded far away.**  

 **Chevy started barking behind the girl - Cora - and pushed himself between her legs, nearly causing her to fall backward. He lumbered over to Stiles and jumped up, licking him like crazy.**  

 **"Chevy, down boy. Down."**  

 **Chevy obeyed Stiles instantly.**  

 **Cora looked at them both incredulously.**  

 **"What the hell," she whispered. And then, loudly: "Who the hell are you?"**  

 **That's when Stiles noticed that Derek had come up behind her.**  

 **He cleared his throat right behind her ear and she nearly jumped a foot in the air.**  

 **"This is Stiles," he said, matter-of-factly.**  

 **She turned around - about to smack Derek - but then she froze, probably remembering that he was broken.**  

 **"How did you find that?" She nudged the crutch that was tucked under his right arm. "You aren't supposed to be walking. I hid it."**  

 **"Oh yeah? Sticking out from under the couch where I was lying? Great hiding spot if I ever knew one."**  

 **She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes.**  

 **Stiles snickered, and the girl turned and shot him a quick glare before turning back towards Derek.**  

 **"Ugh. The 'you' on pain meds is a sarcastic loser."**  

 **Derek just raised his eyebrows at her and stared her down. After their short stalemate, he nodded his head to the side and she finally moved out of his way.**  

 **"You love me," Derek said to her before attempting to make his way fully into the room. He was moving really slow, but he eventually got himself situated leaning up against the wall right next to the doorway. He was putting all of his weight onto a crutch on the right side of his body. His left side was pretty much all casted up - leg in a cast, arm in a sling. The rest of him that Stiles could see still looked beat up.**  

 **"Holy shit," Stiles whispered. "You're okay. Thank god you're okay."**  

 **And then every worry, every care, every fear left his mind. Derek was okay and safe and standing right in front of him. He didn’t care about his unrequited crush, or the fact that Derek was constantly annoyed of him. He didn’t care at all because Derek was okay.**  

 **He closed the distance between them and put a hand - gently - on either side of Derek's scruffy face. Then he leaned in, pressing their lips together. He kissed Derek for just a split second before reality sunk in, and he realized what he was doing. He backed away quickly and looked down to his feet.**  

 **"Sorry, I uh - " Stiles stammered. "Wow. Just glad you're home safe. Um. _Shit_."**   **He sort of wanted to dive-bomb back through the dog door and leave town forever. His cheeks were likely the color of tomatoes. Maybe even brighter.**

 **Derek was staring at him. He could feel it without even looking up.**  

 **"And sorry for, um, breaking in. Again," he said to his shoes - still too afraid to look up. "I tried knocking and all the doors were locked. You guys didn’t answer. And so, yeah..."**  

**"Maybe because we were _finally sleeping_ ," Cora groaned. She looked to Derek like he was insane. "Really, dude?  _This_ is him?"**

**Stiles had forgotten about her.**  

 **Her presence and her words brought reality on him tried and true. He didn’t even know who this girl was. She was sleeping at Derek's house. With Derek. _They_  had finally been sleeping.** 

 **Stiles looked past Derek and straight to Cora as he spoke. "Holy god. Oh shit. I am so so so so _so_  sorry. I would _never_ intentionally do that to someone. Get your dukes back out and plant one on me," he pointed at his head. "I deserve it. Fuck. I'm so sorry."**  

 **Cora looked at Derek condescendingly for a moment before looking at Stiles. "Seriously? You want me to give you a concussion for waking us up? Little excessive but whatever floats your boat I guess."**  

**"No no no. For kissing Derek," Stiles said, tugging uncomfortably on the sleeve of his flannel. "I'm not a homewrecker!" He closed his eyes, but then opened them back up when he wasn't hit in the head.**

**Cora looked so confused. Her eyebrows pinched together as she stared at Stiles. Finally her face changed. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell open.**  

 **Derek was snickering for some reason.**  

 **Probably just because he was higher than a fucking kite.**  

 **"Does he think that _we_ are - " she started to ask, glancing at Derek.**  

 **Derek nodded slowly, his smile about to break into a laugh.**  

 **"Oh _fuck_  no. Ew ew ewww," she cried. Then she stomped out of the room. "Jesus Christ!" she shouted as she stormed down the hall.** 

 **Stiles couldn’t be anything but confused.**  

 **"So, now you've met my little sister, Cora." Derek broke the silence, and finally let himself crack up.**  

**_What_** **_?_  Stiles' world crashed down on him, and embarrassment flooded his entire being. That was Derek's sister. Not his girlfriend. He had kissed Derek in front of his sister not in front of his significant other. **

**That was his sister. Taking care of him after returning home from the hospital. That made perfect sense now. But it was too late for that. Fucking hindsight; that bitch.**

**Embarrassment would never evade him for as long as he lived. He was sure of that. It was one-hundred-percent pure fact. His cheeks grew scarlet all over again.**  

 **"Oh, my god. That's definitely my cue to leave," Stiles said, turning around and walking towards the back door. He was so embarrassed he'd even go back through the dog door if he had to. "I'm so glad you're okay, really. I'll bring dinner over later for you guys. Take some more pain meds and forget I was ever here, please."**  

 **Derek was silent for a few seconds, but then his voice broke through the quiet. "Why?" he said. There was something in his voice that Stiles couldn’t decipher.**  

 **"Saving myself from further embarrassment, obviously."**  

 **"What's done is done," Derek said, with a soft laugh. "Come here."**  

**"Huh?"**

**Stiles turned around to see that Derek was still leaning against the wall. He had his crutch resting on the chair next to him. His right arm was open, inviting Stiles in.**  

 **Stiles only hesitated a moment, just to make sure that it wasn’t some sick joke. Then he walked over to Derek and wrapped his arms around his neck. Derek's good arm wrapped tightly around his back and it was all warm and amazing.**  

 **"I'm so glad you’re okay. I couldn’t figure out where you were to come visit."**  

 **"They wouldn’t have let you in anyway."**  

 **"I would have broken in. You know me."**  

 **Derek laughed - hugged him a little tighter.**  

 **"I missed you," Stiles finally admitted. "I didn’t even know that you were leaving. I was going to make something awesome for dinner, but when I came over after work, you and Chev were already gone."**  

 **"Missed you," Derek replied. Then his voice was sheepish. "Yeah, about that... Didn’t tell you. It was a moment of weakness... and, um, jealousy."**  

 **"Jealousy, eh?" His voice came out steady and calm, but on the inside, Stiles was thrilled.**  

 **"Yep. Couldn’t believe you'd miss out on prime rib to hang out with James."**  

 **"I think he got the point to never come back."**  

 **"Hopefully, or he'll have to answer to me."**  

 **Stiles had to laugh. "What're you gonna do? Smack him with your crutch?"**  

 **"Shut up," Derek growled. "I hate you."**  

 **Stiles realized he was still hugging him, so he let his arms drop and backed away. "You're back now though, that's all that matters."**  

 **"I'm back," Derek said, with a nod.**  

 **Stiles looked down to his feet. He had to bring it up sooner or later. He spoke before he could stop himself. "Sorry about before."**  

 **"Oh, Cora? She's fine. Actually, she's probably in the guest room dying of laughter as we speak. No offense, but you'll probably never live that one down."**  

 **Stiles grimaced and then sighed. "No, not that part."**  

 **Derek stared at him, brows pulling downward in confusion. "What part then? Waking me up?"**  

 **He couldn’t get the words out for a solid ten awkward seconds. Finally, he swallowed his pride. Of course Derek was going to make him fucking say it out loud. "No. The part where I kissed you."**  

 **Derek looked impossibly more confused for a moment, but then he smiled. "Hm. That happened?" His voice was laced with sarcasm. "Must be the medicine, because I don’t remember. Maybe remind me?"**  

 **"What?" was all Stiles could think, and accidentally say aloud.**  

 **" _Remind me_ ," Derek said again. This time he opened his arm up again for Stiles.** 

 **Stiles stepped forward slowly and wrapped his arms back around Derek's neck.**  

**He was nervous this time. Unlike earlier when he was acting on impulses alone, he was now fully aware of the current situation. He was going to kiss Derek Hale.**

**Fucking finally.**

**His voice wavered slightly, but he tried to ignore it. "It kinda went something like this."**  

**Then he pressed his lips to Derek's. This time, however, Derek kissed back. His hand moved up Stiles' back and then his fingers laced through his hair. Stiles squeezed his arms tighter, pressing himself tightly to Derek's body. He noticed Derek's casted arm between them right as he winced.**

**Stiles jumped away, hands flailing. "Holy shit. I'm so sorry. What did I do? What can I do? Shit."**  

 **Derek chuckled. "I'm fine, Stiles. Just sore. You're fine, come back." But then he yawned.**  

 **"You need to go finish that nap I interrupted," Stiles said, reluctantly. He would have preferred to continue kissing Derek.**  

**Derek nodded, yawning again. "Care to join me?" he asked. "You look pretty exhausted yourself."**

**Stiles wasn’t sure if he had heard him correctly, but he wasn’t about to argue with that. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure." He was probably nodding his head a few dozen too many times for one question.**

**Stiles followed behind Derek, slowly, to his room. The room was dark, but from what Stiles could make out of it, it was clean and organized, and not at all cluttered like Stiles' room.**  

 **It took a while for Derek to get himself comfortably into bed, and even longer for Stiles to figure out where to lie down. He was having another internal crisis. He didn’t know if he should cuddle up to Derek, or if he should just lie on his side of the bed and take a nap. The latter was less risky, so he stayed on his side of the bed.**  

**He was pretty tired, but there was no way he was going to be able to nap. For one, Derek was lying next to him. That was nerve wracking enough. But also, he was still in his slacks and button down from work. His belt buckle was already stabbing him in the stomach.**

**"I'm not made of glass you know." Derek's voice broke through.**

**"Huh?"**

**"You're really far away," Derek rephrased.**

**"Uh," Stiles mumbled. His body didn't seem to be working, and he was frozen on the right side of the bed just staring Derek down in the semi-darkness.**

**"I don't bite either, if that's what you're worried about."**

**"Oh, uh, yeah," Stiles stammered. He shook his head a few times to bring himself back to reality. Reality was fucking awesome, and he needed to let it happen. He was in Derek Hale's room, in Derek Hale's bed... with Derek Hale. Stiles pinched his arm once, discovered he was still very much awake, and then inched himself towards the middle of the bed.**  

**Stiles had to act cool, but on the inside, he was freaking out again. Though he had tested it, he was still not fully convinced that he wasn't dreaming. But if that were the case, it was a pretty damn good dream, so he didn't mind.**

**He pulled himself up onto his elbow and then pecked Derek quickly on the lips.**  

 **"I thought I annoyed you," he said softly.**  

 **"You do," Derek replied. "So, so much." Then his hand was strong on the back of Stiles' head, bringing him in for another kiss.**  

 **Stiles shrugged, and then nuzzled himself into Derek's side. He was just not going to ask questions. "If this is you being annoyed of me, by all means please keep it up."**  

**Derek was silent after that, and was soon snoring softly. Stiles couldn't help but lose the battle against his heavy eyelids, and eventually fell asleep too.**


	13. revealed

**Nearly every dollar of Stiles’ paycheck that was not going towards rent was going towards food. He had stocked his kitchen with every ingredient he might possibly need for breakfasts, lunches and dinners.**  

 **Derek had asked Stiles to hang out with him every day that weekend, and even though he had either been in a haze of pain-killers or asleep for most of it, Stiles was still content with keeping him company. Reality, however, was calling Stiles back to the school.**  

 **Stiles woke an hour earlier than his normal six AM wake up time, and he started cooking right away. He made an elaborate breakfast that consisted of delicious breakfast sandwiches on toasted croissants.  He also made some sandwiches for lunch.  He ate some breakfast hastily, and then bagged up a sandwich to take to work. He put enough food in the fridge for Scott, and Kira if she came over. Everything else went in bags to bring over to Derek and Cora.**  

 **Cora was still less than friendly to Stiles, but he would grow on her. He could feel it. He was, albeit, a bit obnoxious, but she was just going to have to learn to embrace it like everyone else had. If Derek freaking Hale could tolerate and even _like_  Stiles, than his sister had to be capable of it too. ** 

**Stiles gathered up all of the food and walked next door.**

**He tried every possible entrance, but th** **ey were all locked.**

 **Cora.**  

 **Stiles found himself standing in the backyard, frowning down at the stupid fucking dog door once again.**  

 **He put the food on a nearby shelf and then readied himself to squeeze – quietly – through the small space. He had decided the last time that it worked best if he didn’t hesitate, so without wasting another second he pushed himself forward quickly through the small door.**  

 **Instead of making it into Derek’s house, his head connected loudly and painfully with hard plastic. Someone had put the cover on it.**  

 **“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning back and rubbing his forehead.**  

 ** _Fucking Cora._**  

 **He left the food on the shelf and walked over to the guest bedroom window. He didn’t knock softly. Nope. He smacked his fist hard against the glass repeatedly.**  

 **He stopped when he heard a sound near the back door. By the time he ran back over there, the food was gone. He tried the door again, but it was locked.**  

 **He went back over to the guest room, and tapped quietly on the window. After a few seconds, half a face appeared from behind the curtains. Cora. She took one look at Stiles, rolled her eyes as if he were the absolute most despicable thing on the planet all the while taking a huge bite out of one of the breakfast sandwiches, and then disappeared.**  

 **He flipped her off, even though he knew she wouldn’t see it. The gesture still alleviated a bit of his building anger.**  

 **"Enjoy," Stiles grumbled, loud enough that he knew she could hear. He was slightly pissed, but he didn’t have time for that. He was not about to be late for work over a fucking sandwich.**  

 

* * *

 

 **During his lunch break, Stiles pulled out his phone and noticed he had a text from Derek.**  

 

D: Thanks for breakfast/lunch. 

  

 **The message was simple, but it still left Stiles smiling to himself like an idiot. He typed back quickly. He only had 30 minutes and he was ready to use all of them to talk to Derek.**  

 

S: It was quite the adventure! 

S: I’m surprised Cora left you any… 

  

**Stiles waited and waited. When he only had four minutes left, his phone finally buzzed in return.**

**_Dammit_.**

 

D: An adventure? 

S: She locked all the doors

S: She even covered the dog door

S: I may have hit my head on it… 

S: Then she stole all the food

D: Thanks for the laugh. She’s just messing with you. 

S: Well... her messing with me is going to cost you both delicious, free meals. I’m just saying. 

D: 4321  

S: Blast off? 

D: It’s the garage code, Stiles. 

  

 **He knew Derek was rolling his eyes at him. He also kind of wanted to jump up and dance because Derek had given him his freaking garage code. That was basically an invitation to break in at ease. Now it wasn’t even _breaking in_ , it was just going inside.** 

 

S: Very complex code you have there. 

D: Shut up. I’ll never forget it. 

S: Ah, true. But neither will I, Derek. Neither will I! >:)

D: Fuck.

  

 **Lunch was finally over, but that was okay. Stiles was very satisfied with their little textversation. Even if Derek was a little high on pain meds, Stiles was now the proud owner of Derek’s garage code. No more stupid dog door for him. Never again.**  

 

* * *

 

 **Stiles continued this behavior all week long. By Thursday morning, Cora had enough of it and decided to go back home. After work that day, he went next door to check on Derek, but he was sleeping on the couch.**  

 **He fed Chevy and then went back home and called Scott. The call went right to his machine, and he remembered that Thursdays were Scott's long days at work. He sighed. He wasn’t tired enough to take a nap, so he didn’t know what to do.**  

 **He finally decided to call his dad. They needed to get together for dinner soon, because Stiles wanted to hear the entire story about what happened to Derek. He had a feeling that Derek was leaving out most of the dirty details to make the whole thing sound like it hadn't been as terrible as it actually was.**  

 **His dad answered after one ring.**  

 **"Son," he said, his tone happy.**  

 **"Hey, Dad. Want to go get dinner? I'll buy. No food restrictions."**  

 **"No restrictions? Aren't you generous." Then his dad hesitated. "I, er, I actually can't tonight. Dinner plans already."**  

 **"Oh, la la," Stiles teased. He didn’t even need to ask who they were with. He knew that it had to be Melissa.**  

 **"Oh, shush."**  

 **“Never! But anywho, I have a bunch of food over here if you want to come by for dinner tomorrow. I'll whip something up."**  

 **"Works for me," his dad answered. "I'll ask Melissa what her hours are when I see her later - I mean I'll give her a call."**  

 **Stiles had to laugh at his dad's sad attempt to cover up his own tracks. "Guess I'll just plan for a party then," he sighed. He was hoping he could get away with making a couple of burgers or something for himself and his dad, but that was no longer the case. His dinner with his dad was already turning into a dinner for three, plus Scott and probably Kira, so five.**  

 **His dad didn’t notice, or chose to ignore Stiles' melodramatic sigh. "That actually works out perfect,” he mused. “Melissa and I wanted to talk to you boys about something.”**  

 **“About your not so secret relationship?” Stiles deadpanned.**  

 **His dad only laughed. “See you tomorrow, Son.”**  

 **Stiles rolled his eyes. He hoped his dad would somehow be able to notice through the phone. “There you go again, using silence as an admission.”**  

**The line cut off and Stiles shook his head. He shot Scott a text.**

 

S: Our parents are coming over for dinner tomorrow to break the news to us that they're dating. Invite Kira.

SM: Did your dad finally tell you?!?!?!

S: Not in so many words. He said they need to tell us something.

SM: About damn time!! I'll text Kira.

 

 **Stiles wanted to invite Derek more than anything, but the problem with that was the fact that he knew Derek _would_  come. No matter what. Even if he wasn’t up for it, and was feeling like shit. Derek would still come to dinner, because that’s just who he was. And Stiles didn’t want to be responsible for that. He didn’t want Derek to be miserable just to come over for a spur of the moment dinner.** 

 **He also didn’t want to be the dick that didn’t invite his boyfr- his neighb- his _whatever the fuck they were to each other_.  **  

 **He also was a tad bit selfish. He wanted to have exciting news too. He wanted to have a date. He couldn’t be the awkward 5** **th** **wheel when his b- when Derek was right next door.**  

 **That thought was all it took for Stiles to clamber out of his chair and over to Derek’s house. He let himself in through the garage. Cora was gone now, so the doors were likely unlocked again, but he got this crazy kind of thrill every time he punched those four numbers into the panel next to the garage. Derek had trusted him with that kind of access into his life, and that made Stiles happy and excited.**  

 **Derek was sitting on the couch with a book in his good hand, leg perched up on the ottoman. He was in basketball shorts and a v-neck. Stiles just stood in the doorway for a moment and took him in. His usual stubble hadn't been maintained since the accident, and his facial hair was probably close to the hottest thing Stiles had ever seen in his life. Plus, he was wearing his damn glasses, which drove Stiles a little crazy. He had to remind himself twenty times in a few seconds flat that Derek was still hurt, and that jumping on him from across the room was probably a bad idea.**  

**"Stiles," Derek acknowledged him.**

**Stiles had to shake his head a few times to snap himself out of his Derek-educed trance.**  

 **"Hi," he finally responded, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He was still nervous around Derek now that they had established that some kind of feelings existed between them. "How're you feeling?"**  

 **"Peachy," Derek sighed. He still hadn't looked up from the book he was reading.**  

 **Stiles felt somewhat unwanted. "I, uh, I just came over really quick to see if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow. My dad is and so is Scott's mom, and Kira too. If you don't want to I underst- "**  

 **"Of course. I'll be there," Derek cut him off.**  

 **"If you aren't feeling up for it - "**  

 **"Stiles, I'll be there."**  

 **"Okay," Stiles sighed. He started to back away, into the kitchen to let himself out. "I'll bring over some dinner later."**  

 **Derek finally set his book down and looked up at Stiles. He took a few steps back into the room, a little too eagerly.**  

 **"I'll be fine tonight. I have leftovers."**  

 **Stiles didn’t know what he had done wrong, but he was tired enough that he didn’t feel like pushing it.**  

 **"Oh. Okay I'll, uh..."**  

 **"See you tomorrow at dinner?"**  

 **I guess that meant Derek didn’t want breakfast or lunch tomorrow, either. Stiles gave up. "Yeah, sure I guess. I'll text you the time."**  

 **Derek just nodded and then reopened his book. Stiles took that as his signal to leave.**  

 **"Whatever," he whispered as he let himself out, trying not to slam the door behind him. Kind of.**  

 

♢♢♢

 

Derek hated this shit. He hated not being able to do  _anything_. All he wanted to do was go on a jog, go to the store, go to fucking work. But no. Even putting on clothes for the day and using the restroom was a struggle for him. 

It didn’t help that he was finished with the hardcore pain meds and was now stuck with bullshit drugstore crap that didn’t even diminish a headache. The whole left side of his body pretty much screamed from within even when he changed the fucking T.V. channel.  

He appreciated Cora and her help. He really did. He loved his sister. But he had to admit he was thankful that Stiles had annoyed her away for now. He was over people prodding him and pitying him and trying to help him do everything. She barely even let him walk around the house for fear he would get himself sent right back to the hospital. At least now he could sit in his own house and read a book in peace. 

He felt a little guilty for shooing Stiles away earlier, too. Actually, he felt really guilty, but he also felt an immense stubbornness that was keeping him from texting Stiles to apologize. He didn’t need dinner made for him every night. He could make his own dinner. And he would. 

He grabbed his crutch and got himself up off the couch. He went into the kitchen and looked in the fridge. In all his years of living on his own, he had never had so much food in his refrigerator. He had his pick of so many delicious meals Stiles had prepared, but his stubbornness was strong. He shut the fridge and grabbed a pot out of the sink, rinsing it a few times and then filling it with water. He set the water to boil, and then waited, standing there in the middle of the kitchen alone. Chevy eventually came in and lied down on the floor. He looked up at Derek with sad, judging eyes, unleashing a whine that seemed to say:  _Where'd Stiles go?_  

"Dammit, Chevy," Derek grumbled.

Then he grabbed a box of macaroni and cheese out of the pantry and poured the noodles into the boiling water. He used the next seven minutes to attempt to locate and then strategically obtain the strainer without causing further harm to himself. He finally had it and the rest of the ingredients (milk and butter) on the counter when the timer beeped. He strained the noodles and put them right back into the pot, where he then added the cheese powder and some milk and butter. He stirred it all together and then stood at the counter, eating the macaroni straight out of the pot. 

It was tasteless and boring. He couldn’t even finish half of it. He ended up putting most of it down the garbage disposal and then going back to the couch, where he eventually fell asleep. 

 

* * *

 

Derek woke up the next afternoon.  

"Fuck," he groaned. He had fallen asleep sitting on the couch with his legs propped up on the ottoman. Now his back was fucking sore along with the rest of him. 

He started to peel himself off of the couch, using his crutch as leverage, and then got himself standing. He was about to go attempt taking a shower when his phone chimed from within the couch. He found it fairly easily, buried between the cushions. The text was from Stiles. Derek had forgotten about how cranky he had been towards him last night when he had come over to... to...

He opened the message. 

 

 **S: Dinner's at 6 if you still wanna come.**  

 

 _Oh right_. He had come over to invite him to dinner. Guilt flooded through him. 

He sent back a quick "Okay", and then ventured into the bathroom to take a couple ibuprofen, and to begin the adventure that was now showering. He figured he should start getting ready since it would take him forfuckingever. 

 

♢♢♢

 

 **At five thirty there was a knock on the door.**  

 **"Dammit," Stiles swore. He looked down. He was still in sweats and a t-shirt. He had been cooking all afternoon, preparing a roast and mashed potatoes and the whole lot. Dinner wasn’t until six, he had made that perfectly clear.**  

 **He pulled the door open hastily. "Dad, I thought I told you not to come until - " He cut himself off when he saw that the guest was not his dad, but Derek. "Derek's here."**  

 **"Derek's here," he repeated. "Sorry I'm early, I can go back home if - "**  

 **"No-no-no," Stiles exclaimed. He jumped out of the way, pulling the door open for him. Right then, Chevy bounded past them both. Stiles could hear the dog as he scampered down the hall and into Stiles' room.**  

 **"I tried to leave him at home, but he wouldn’t have that."**  

 **Stiles just shrugged. He loved that dog anyway.**  

 **Stiles led them into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for Derek on his way over to check on everything that was cooking. Derek, however, hobbled past the chair and stopped, standing right behind Stiles.**  

 **Stiles tired to go about his business, but it became difficult when he could feel the stubble along Derek's jaw against the back of his neck and his shoulder. Soon enough, kisses were being planted along the side of his neck, and if the entire kitchen had burned down, Stiles probably wouldn’t have even noticed.**  

 **Stiles turned slowly, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck in one fluid motion. He planted one kiss on his mouth and then raised an eyebrow at him. "Good evening, Officer Grumpy."**  

 **Derek snorted and then sighed. "Sorry about last night. I think I'm developing cabin fever."**  

 **"Understandable," Stiles shrugged. "Just thought I had upset you or something."**  

 **Derek sighed. "Never. Just ready for this all to be over with," he said, motioning to his arm and leg.**  

 **Stiles nodded, a small smile toying at his lips. "Never say never, Derek." He winked. "By the way, you are looking quite dapper, Sir." Derek was wearing a nice button down and a pair of jeans that Stiles didn’t even want to guess the price of.**  

 **"Same to you," Derek said. His face was dead serious, but he started laughing the second Stiles looked down.**  

 **"Well, shit," he said, laughing. "Don't be so quick to judge, Derek. You're the odd man out because I forgot to warn you that this is a pajama party."**  

 **"Ah," Derek said. He was making his way back over to the chair Stiles had originally pulled out for him when the front door opened and Scott and Kira walked inside, both dressed nicely.**  

 **"Jokes on you!" Stiles said to them.**  

 **Scott and Kira looked confused. Derek just rolled his eyes and said, "Don't ask."**  

 **Stiles sighed and ran out of the room to get changed.**  

 

♢♢♢

 

Dinner was a completely uncomfortable experience as far as Derek was concerned, and it had _almost_ nothing to do with his injuries, or sitting forever in a hard, wooden chair. Stiles and Scott had quickly filled him in on the elephant in the room, before the Sheriff and Ms. McCall arrived. 

Dinner was delicious, of course, but it seemed to take an eternity. Scott and Stiles both tried fervently, and awkwardly, to get their parents to bring up the news. Their efforts were in vain, though, and Derek was left to make faces at Kira from across the table. He could tell that she was feeling just as uncomfortable as he was. 

Between the long awkward silences and the forced conversations taking place between everyone, Derek had no idea what to do other than sit there and say nothing. 

He had no idea why everyone was making this reveal such a big ordeal. It seemed obvious to him. It was a dinner between Scott and his girlfriend, Stiles and himself, and the Sheriff and Ms. McCall. A triple date of sorts. Their respective sons already taunted them about being together all the time, anyway. They just needed to spit out the truth, take some good-hearted grief, and be on with it. He had been excited for the dinner initially, because they were a fun group of people, but this was not his idea of a good time. 

He was also uncomfortable due to the lack of pain meds in his system. Sitting on a rickety wooden chair all night was not treating him too well. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. He wondered if the antsy feeling was how Stiles always felt. Well, minus the pain part.  

"You doing okay over there, Derek?" Sheriff Stilinski asked him. His voice seemed loud as it cracked through a wall of silence. 

Derek nodded. Then he pulled out a small container of ibuprofen from his pocket. "Haven't taken anything for the pain since this afternoon, and I'm getting a little stiff in this chair. It's manageable though." 

Stilinski eyed the container. "They already took you off pain meds?" He looked surprised as Derek nodded. "Damn. I'm shocked you aren't at home in bed. I would be." 

"Yeah," Derek laughed. He was glad to have finally defused some of the harshness in the air. "It still hurts pretty bad. I'm crankier about the fact that I can't do anything though." 

"How do you even shower?" Scott asked. Derek noticed Stiles shoot him a glare from across the table. 

"Very carefully," Derek deadpanned.  

Everyone laughed. He couldn't help but smile in return. His job was never to be the funny one. That was usually all on Stiles. 

"I'm just ready to be better. I can't stand sitting at home all day. I want to go back to work, or be able to get dressed without it being an event." 

Stiles finally piped up. He rolled his eyes dramatically. "God, Derek. I should have bought you some cheese, because all you do is  _whine_." He ended his joke with a wink sent Derek's way. 

The entire table was silent. Ms. McCall was trying hard to conceal a smile. Derek, however, just looked at Stiles blankly. He wanted to laugh, even though the stab was at him, but this was more fun. He always loved getting a rise out of Stiles. Plus, the awkwardness seemed to be sucked right out of the air. Now everyone was trying not to give into laughing. 

"Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski reprimanded. His scolding tone towards Stiles made holding back his laughter impossibly more difficult, but Derek continued to remain stoic. 

" _You know_ ," Stiles began to explain. "Because you eat cheese with wine. Come on you guys, that was a good one." 

Stilinski finally snorted a short laugh. "I think we all got it, Son." 

"Clearly you all did not, because that was a quality joke." He looked straight at Derek. "If you guys got it, this kitchen would be in a laugh riot. Obviously." 

"No, I think I definitely got it," Derek said in monotone. He pulled his eyebrows in and gave Stiles a look that hopefully said:  _I am not an idiot._  

Everyone at the table cracked up at that, not including Derek and Stiles. 

Stiles just folded his arms tightly over his chest. “Whatever. Looks like no one’s getting dessert now.” 

Scott let out a fake laugh so fast that Derek almost lost it. Almost. Kira laughed too. Everyone around the table let out some kind of false laughter except for Derek. 

Stiles sighed, standing up. “I guess I’ll take what I can get. Courtesy laughs are all that I’m worth these days.” He shoved his chair in roughly before heading back into the kitchen. 

“Someone is a little touchy tonight,” Stilinski whispered loudly. 

“And here I thought it was my job to be the grumpy one,” Derek said, finally letting out a quiet chuckle.  

They all laughed for a second until Stiles’ voice cut them off.  

“You guys do know that I can hear every word that you're saying. I am literally like ten feet away from you.” 

He walked back over and placed a cake plate down on the table. He made it look like he did it in haste, but Derek could tell that his touch was gentle. He was mad, but he didn’t want to ruin his dessert. 

After Stiles sat back down, Derek bonked his knee against Stiles' knee. When they finally made eye contact, Derek smiled a small, hopefully apologetic smile. Stiles sighed, but then ruefully smiled back. 

   
♢♢♢

 

 **Stiles had been starting to get a little cranky, but the silent conversation he shared with Derek lightened his mood. Everyone just loved to pick on him.**  

 **"Now that everyone is stuffing their faces with cake, we have something we'd like to tell you," his dad said, looking to Melissa.**  

 **"Fucking finally," Stiles whispered under his breath so only Derek could hear.**  

 **Derek coughed on his beer, trying to hide a laugh, and Stiles couldn’t help but smile at that.**  

 **Stiles wanted to say something snarky about his dad's "secret" relationship, but he figured that he would let his dad have this one.**  

 **"Scott," his dad started. "Your mother is an amazing woman, and I would like your blessing to date her."**  

 **Scott was beaming. He grinned at Stiles' dad and nodded his head. "Dude, of course. Obviously."**  

 **His dad nodded. Then Melissa looked over to him. "Stiles, if it's too soon..." She trailed off, but Stiles cut her off before she could finish.**  

 **"I want you both to be happy. That would make me happy."**  

 **She smiled a small smile at Stiles and then looked to his dad.**  

 **His dad pecked her quickly on the lips and then smiled back at her.**  

 **"Ew, gross," Scott and Stiles both groaned at the same time. Then they both started cracking up. The whole table was quickly overtaken by laughter.**  

 **After the laughter subsided, the table went silent again. Stiles was still working off of the positive energy in the room, so he wasn’t really thinking as he spoke. "Since we're asking permission tonight, Dad, do I have your blessing to date your Chief Deputy?"**  

 **His dad chuckled. "I thought that was already happening, blessing or not."**  

 **Stiles shrugged. "Just thought you'd like to know that Derek is my boyfriend."**  

 **As the words spilled from his mouth, he slowly began to realize what he was saying _and_ who was sitting right next to him. He also remembered that he and Derek had never decided on anything. He had no idea what they even  _were_. Sure they kissed here and there, but they had never _defined the relationship_ , per se. This was all brand new, and here he was declaring them at the dinner table.** 

 **He was afraid to look at Derek, who was now perfectly still next to him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping Scott would figure it out and say _anything_  to cut the silence. Stiles wanted to choke on his bite of cake so that he could pass out and avoid the whole situation entirely.** 

 **He hated his fucking motormouth sometimes.**  

 **Surprisingly it was Kira who saved him.**  

 **"Ms. McCall," she piped up.**  

 **"You can call me Melissa, honey."**  

 **"Melissa," she said shyly. Then she laughed. "Can I have your blessing to date your son?"**  

 **Everyone started laughing. Stiles looked at Kira from across the table, hoping his eyes said: _Thank you_. He still avoided looking to Derek. He couldn’t hear any laughter from him. **  

 ** _Fuck_. He and his big mouth had ruined it. **  

 **He must have been scowling because his dad took a stab at him. "Stiles, I think you have officially lost your position as being the comic relief and have taken the chair as the new family grump."**  

 **Stiles leaned forward and put the cover on the cake plate, just as his dad was reaching for another slice. "I should just lock this in the fridge and make you all go home."** **As he finished his little rant, Derek's hand wrapped strongly just above his left knee. Stiles' voice faltered. Okay, so it might have cracked like he was going through fucking puberty all over again. "Also, I am _not_  grumpy."** 

 **It was not one of his prouder moments.**  

 **Of course, however, _that_  was enough to make Derek laugh.** 

 

♢♢♢

 

Derek had been taken aback by Stiles' whole "boyfriend" comment. He figured that's what they were doing anyway, but he also figured Stiles would be a little more cautious in regards to telling his dad, seeing that Derek was his right-hand-man at work. Derek also kind of assumed that the Sheriff knew after the whole accident drama, but saying it out loud to his boss-slash-boyfriend's father was a little unnerving.  

Of course the Sheriff had known already. Everyone had known, and now Derek could breathe easier knowing that the information was out in the open. The rest of the night was light and easy and comfortable. 

When Stilinski and Ms. McCall left hand in hand, they were taunted with a bunch of " _awwww"_ s courtesy of Stiles and Scott.  

Derek rolled his eyes at Kira as they waved them off.  

"Our boyfriends are weird," she said, laughing. 

"You can say that again," Derek sighed. 

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Kira and Scott hunkered down to watch a movie - Chevy sprawled out across half of the couch with them - while Derek and Stiles talked by the front door.

"I hate to be a lame-ass." Derek sighed, holding in a yawn. "My body kind of, well, it fucking hurts. I think I need to sleep." 

Stiles didn’t stop himself from yawning hugely right in front of Derek, as if he were taunting him.  

"Let's do something tomorrow though?" Derek offered. 

"Oh, like what?"  

 _Shit_. Derek hesitated, "Uh, I'll think of something. Just come over and wake me up?" 

Stiles smiled and scrubbed a hand over his hair. "Okay, yeah. Sleep good." 

"Well," Derek corrected. 

Stiles punched his good arm playfully. "Shut up, grammar police." 

Derek just leaned forward a little bit, opening his arm towards Stiles, who leaned into him with ease.  

"Thanks for coming," Stiles whispered into Derek's ear, leaving a trail of warm breath. Then he did the worst thing possible: he clasped Derek's earlobe between his teeth and pulled at it, just enough to drive Derek a little bit crazy. 

"Thanks for inviting me," Derek said, in a voice that was as steady as he could possibly keep it. He didn’t want to slip up like Stiles had earlier. He leaned back slightly then, so that he could get to Stiles' mouth. He only let the kiss last a few seconds before he gave Stiles one last squeeze with his arm and then backed away. "Goodnight." 

"Nighty night," Stiles said, in return. When the door was only an inch away from being shut, Stiles whispered, "We are going to hold Chevy hostage." Then he shut the door, and Derek heard the lock slide into place. 

He just shook his head as he walked back home. Kira was right, his boyfriend was weird.


	14. anchored

**Stiles was horny. There was no better way to put it. He officially had a sexy, Chief Deputy boyfriend, and he desperately needed to consummate the relationship. Derek was still in pain though, even when he acted like he wasn't, and Stiles wanted their first time to be amazing. He wanted it to be spectacular. He wanted it to be perfect.**

**Sure he could have gone down on Derek like fifty-million times by then, no exaggeration, but he was trying his best to save it. Before, when he had first laid eyes on Derek, he strictly wanted to bang the noise out of him, but now, everything had changed. Now he wanted their first time to mean something. Like he said, he wanted it to be perfect. He kept reminding himself that he had waited this long already. What were a few more weeks in the whole scheme of things, really?**

**_A loooooot of blue balls_** **, that's what a few more weeks were.**

**But he would survive. Besides, it meant that he got to cuddle up to Derek almost everyday after work. He got to make them dinner, and breakfast, and then come home from work and do it all over again. It was all perfectly domestic, and perfectly fucking awesome.**

**He knew Derek hated being doted on, but Stiles loved doing it. He had tried really hard to tone it down a notch or two since their dinner with his dad. He was trying his hardest to be Stiles Stilinski: Cool Boyfriend, not Stiles Stilinski: Overwhelming Soon-To-Be-Ex-Boyfriend. Still, he couldn’t change the fact that he liked to cook, right?**

**When he got home from work, both Scott and Kira's cars were outside. To save himself from any potential awkwardness, he parked his car in Derek's driveway, and smiled to himself as he thought of the garage code he now had engraved in his memory forever. He still couldn’t help but be ecstatic about being given that kind of permission to invade Derek's life at ease like that. He also couldn't believe that he could still be so excited over a fucking garage code.**

**He should have known Derek liked him. _Duh_.**

**He shot Scott a text, still sitting in his car.**

 

S: Going to Derek's. We should all get dinner later.

SM: Sounds good. 7?

S: Meet ya outside then.

 

**Then he sent Derek a winky face emoji before jumping out of the jeep and punching in the garage code.**

**"Hooooooney, I'm home!" Stiles called into the house as he flung the door open. God, he was _so_ going to get his garage code privileges revoked. **

**He was greeted by a wiggly, hyper Chevy, who started licking and biting at his pant leg.**

**"Hey buddy," Stiles said, scruffing the dog's ears. Then he looked around.**

**The living room and the kitchen were both vacant. Stiles was turning to head back into the living room when he noticed Derek peeking around the corner. His hair was disheveled, and his cheeks were still pink with sleep. He was squinting his eyes, obviously trying to make out Stiles in the blurry world.**

**He didn’t say a word, just turned around and limped himself down the hall, back towards his room. Stiles followed suit.**

**"Sorry I woke you," he whispered, as he entered the room.**

**Derek had already maneuvered himself back into bed, in the only position that didn’t cause him pain - on his back. Stiles crawled onto the other side of the bed, but kept his distance. He might've been dealing with Grumpy Cop, he couldn’t be sure.**

**Derek just grumbled incoherently, and rubbed his eyes with his good hand. Then he outstretched his arm, fingers reaching around the air near Stiles.**

**"You trying to get my attention, Big Guy, or is there a mosquito flying around that I need to track down for you?"**

**Derek just let out a huff of air, and then his fingers connected with Stiles' nice button up and grabbed it in a fist. He was roughly pulled forward.**

**"You're an idiot," Derek said, before pulling him down the last few necessary inches required for their lips to meet. They kissed for a few seconds. Derek tasted like spearmint.**

**"Ew, morning breath," Stiles lied, pulling away. He tried for a grimace.**

**"Bullshit. I have gum," Derek deadpanned. He stuck his tongue out at Stiles, promptly showing him his gum.**

**"You're like half asleep, that probably isn't safe. Also, that whole gesture was very _Stiles_ of you. You should probably stop hanging out with me."**

**Derek groaned and rolled his eyes, but he had a sleepy smile on his face. "Too late for that, I suppose." He threw the gum into the trash can next to his bed.**

**"You supposed right. No getting rid of me now." Stiles said, before pecking Derek chastely on the lips. Derek didn’t even have enough time to kiss back. "You up to go out to eat with Scott and Kira at seven? Means you'd still have about four hours before you'll have to rejoin the living."**

**Derek nodded. "Sounds good." Then he sighed. "Went to work for a bit today, it wore me out."**

**Stiles remembered back to his own first day, and how exhausting it had been. Getting back into the daily grind was never easy. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for Derek right now, with all of his injuries.**

**"That's good though, right? Getting to go back?"**

**"Yeah," Derek said, with his eyes closed. "Mostly just sat around and did a bunch of paperwork for my worker's comp. It's endless."**

**"Well, let's nap about it," Stiles said. He leaned down and kissed Derek's beard covered cheek.**

**Derek pushed himself up a bit, and turned the lamp off. His black out curtains made the room as dark as night. Stiles had to fish out his phone and turn the flashlight on.**

**"Uh," he started, trying to not sound as embarrassed as he was. "Got any sweats I can borrow or something? Or I mean, I can just go home and change if-"**

**"Middle drawer. T-shirts are in the top one."**

**He wanted to shine his flashlight on Derek's face, to see what kind of expression he was sporting, but he decided against it at the last second. Instead he got up and turned around before he let himself grin hugely. There was something about getting to wear Derek's clothes that was extremely satisfying. He grabbed a pair of sweats out of the drawer and then found a red t-shirt that he had seen Derek in multiple times. He almost undressed right there in the light of his cell-phone flashlight, but he still had no idea if that was okay yet. Their relationship was strictly making out so far, and Stiles sometimes "accidentally" sleeping over. Stiles was also worried about his own self-control. If he got half-naked in the same room as Derek Hale, there was a very high probability that he would end up pouncing on him, in hopes that he would undress too.**

**Stiles groaned quietly, but then forced himself to walk into the bathroom and close the door. He would get his Deputy Hale sexytimes soon enough.**

**When he curled himself into bed next to Derek, he was already snoring softly. Stiles loved seeing Derek asleep. His face always seemed so relaxed that way - so childlike. Sometimes he even smiled lightly in his sleep, and god, Stiles wanted to see him smile like that while he was awake. He wanted to make Derek smile like that. Just a light, effortless, easy smile.**

**He kissed Derek's partially parted lips, and then set an alarm on his phone for 6:45. He flipped around and nuzzled his back into the curve of Derek's side. He had to face away so that he would actually nap instead of watching Derek sleep like the little creeper he was.**

 

**♢♢♢**

 

It was one of those rare nights where Derek would have preferred for Stiles to dote on him. He was exhausted for some reason. He felt lame. All he had done at work was endless hours of paperwork, but it had worn him down. Still, he knew Stiles was trying to tone it down on the whole taking care of him debacle, and going out to eat with Scott and Kira was surely a part of that.

He was changing out of his pajama pants, and putting on something a bit more civilized, while Stiles waited out on the couch.

Stiles had also only given them 15 minutes to wake up and get ready to go. He was trying to hurry, but that was still an impossible task for him. He would just have to apologize for making them late. Again.

He walked out into the living room with two minutes to spare. He hopefully looked presentable enough. Stiles never said where they were going to go eat, but he assumed some kind of sports bar. He put on a leather jacket and jeans.

Stiles whistled when he saw him, and Derek hated himself for blushing. Thank god he had a beard. Stiles would never have to know.

"You're making me wish I would have gone home and changed out of my teacher clothes."

Derek just shook his head no. The slacks hugged Stiles in ways that jeans did not, and he looked simply delicious. Derek felt himself nearly smile.

"Hot for teacher, are we?" Stiles said with a wink, as he got off of the couch and sauntered over to Derek.

 _Quite,_ Derek thought, but didn’t say out loud. Instead he leaned in as Stiles clutched his face between his hands. Soon he had the fingers of his good hand laced through Stiles' hair. He bit Stiles' bottom lip and pulled him forward a bit. The noise that Stiles let out at that - a small whimper - was enough to drive Derek fucking insane.

Stiles' phone pinged in his pocket. Twice.

 _Godfuckingdammit_.

Stiles backed away and looked ravished from just their short make out session. His lips were red and his hair was disheveled in a way that made Derek ache for more of him. Now that his body could feel more things than pain, he was not prepared for the effects kissing Stiles had on him.

"And for that, you get detention," Stiles said, turning on his heel. "C'mon, you."

Stiles hadn't even fixed his hair. Now Derek had to look at _that_ the whole way out to the driveway.

"No crutch, man?" Scott yelled excitedly as they were piling into Kira's car.

Derek looked down. He had been caught. He was in a boot now, and not in the stupid, heavy plaster cast. He was allowed to use his leg _a little_. This counted as a little right? The whole day counted as a little? His leg was fucking throbbing.

Stiles glared at him, mood seeming to change instantly. "Pretty sure you're still supposed to be using it."

"I'm allowed to walk on it a little. Used the crutch all day," he lied. Derek was getting defensive. Yeah, he was stubborn, that was just _him_. But of course, he couldn't help but wince as he let himself into Kira's car. "Fuck."

"Mhm," Stiles said. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from Derek, out the window.

Derek made awkward eye contact with Scott through the rearview mirror. A few moments later, his phone buzzed. It was a random number. Scott was looking at him meaningfully now. Derek raised his eyebrows and Scott nodded. The text was from him. Stiles must have given him his number at some point.

 

**SM: He just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself worse**

**SM: Don’t be mad at him**

 

Derek didn't respond. He just made eye contact with Scott again, and nodded. It took a few minutes before he got another text from Scott. It was a long one.

 

**SM: Idk how much Stiles has told you about his past so I'm not going to go there. But I'll say this much... He worries about everything and everyone. He doesn't want the people he cares about to hurt. He doesn't want to lose anyone. Don't be mad at him okay?**

**D: Okay**

 

He let that text stew in his thoughts as Kira drove. He reached across the middle seat and put his hand on Stiles' thigh, squeezing it once. He heard Stiles sigh, but he just crossed his arms tighter over his chest and continued staring out the window. It hit him then, how little he knew about Stiles in the big scheme of things. They had never really talked about anything very deep, besides Stiles' ex. That was about as deep as they had delved thus far. Derek had no idea what Scott's text was about. Stiles had never mentioned losing anyone. He had to wonder though if Stiles had lost his mother. It made sense. She wasn’t around, and Stilinski and Melissa had been so careful with their relationship. Now that he was thinking about it, he remembered seeing what looked like a wedding band on a chain around the Sheriff's neck every now and then. He probably wore it under his shirt at all times.

Derek's chest ached. He knew loss. He knew it all too well. He had lost both his parents and his sister, Laura, when he was in high school. It was something he never talked about. Even then, eleven years later, it was still too hard to bring up. 

He had always wanted to ask Stiles about his mom, like when Stiles would mention using her recipes, but something always stopped him. Maybe it was the fear of what the conversation would inevitably lead to. Of course Stiles would ask Derek about his mom. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to open that door.

Derek pulled his hand off of Stiles' leg and sent him a text.

 

**D: Sorry, Stiles. I should be more careful. I just wanted to test the waters. Figured we wouldn’t be walking too much, and I could lean on you. It really is okay.**

 

He put his phone back into his pocket, and then tried his hardest not to watch Stiles read the text. From the corner of his eye, he saw Stiles' face illuminated by his phone screen. He didn’t have his phone out long enough to be texting Derek back though. He sighed and looked away.

A few seconds passed, and then Derek's right side felt warm. Stiles had unbuckled his seatbelt, and was sliding over into the middle seat. He re-hooked his belt, and then laced his fingers through Derek's.

"Now you really have detention. That was just a warning before, but now I'm serious," Stiles whispered into his ear. He bit Derek's earlobe quickly. It was enough to make Derek suck in a loud, deep breath.

Stiles leaned away and snickered. _That dick._

Still, Derek felt lighter. Upset-Stiles was something that he never wanted to encounter again. It was too weird - wrong. He turned to look at Stiles, and leaned into a kiss. Stiles grabbed his hair in the fingers of his other hand and pulled Derek even closer to him.

"Get a room!" Scott yelled. Derek looked up just in time to get hit in the face by a jacket that Scott had flung at them.

"Perfect," Stiles yelled back, laughing. He grabbed the jacket and threw it over their heads - hiding them from Scott's sight. "Mmmm, Derek. Yeah, just like that."

Their faces were two inches apart. Stiles was just fucking with Scott. Still, Derek thought the whole thing was a bit unfair. Now he was aching for Stiles even more than before.

The jacket was ripped away, exposing their ruse, and also exposing what Derek could only imagine to be a look of despair on his face.

They got to the small bar, and Derek glared at the short walk to the front entrance. He should have brought his crutch. His leg was so sore from walking on it all day. But he had to pretend it felt fine, for Stiles. He hopped out of the car, onto his good leg, and then put some weight onto his other foot. He hissed in pain, and Kira looked at him nervously. Stiles was still in the car, so he shot her a glance that hopefully said: _Its fine, its fine. Don't tell Stiles_. She nodded and then walked around to Scott.

Stiles was soon at his side, grabbing his hand. Derek was thankful for the steady person beside him as he limped his way towards the bar. He was also thankful that this steady person was Stiles.

 

* * *

 

Derek was excited. Another week had passed, and he was now upgraded from the plaster cast on his arm as well. He was allowed to take the brace off his arm for a bit every day, but he kept it on for Stiles. He also kept it on because he was done with his stubborn bullshit. If he followed the rules, the sooner he'd be able to get all that shit off for good.

Stiles seemed to be in better spirits now that Derek was actually taking care of himself. He was also still driving Derek insane, by looking _so_ _desirable_. His usually strong patience was slowly dwindling day by day. Soon enough he was just going to pounce on Stiles. Soon enough _when he was capable of pouncing_.

Stiles was coming over that evening, and Derek was ready to breach the tough subjects. He was ready to get to know Stiles on a deeper level, and he was surprisingly ready to share his past with Stiles, too. It needed to happen before they took things any further. They needed to put everything on the table. Stiles needed to know _Derek_. And Derek needed to know _Stiles_. He wanted to know him as more than just his annoying next door neighbor who had somehow managed to fit right into Derek's haphazard life. He wanted to know _why_ Stiles fit. He wanted to know every little thing that there was to know about him. And he wanted Stiles to know him that way, too.

He was scared.

He was ready.

 

**♢♢♢**

 

**They were just lying in Derek's bed talking about their days, but something felt different. Stiles couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was, but the conversations seemed forced somehow. They hadn't had trouble conversing since early on. It was almost a new feeling for him.**

**Derek was looking at his hands awkwardly when he asked his next question. "So, how are your dad and Melissa doing?"**

**"Really good, I think. Dad's really happy, so that's good." His voice was strong and sincere. He was truly happy for the two of them.**

**"Figured," Derek said, thoughtfully. "He always seems to be in a great mood at work."**

**Stiles laughed. "Yeah, they're great for each other. Always have been."**

**Derek was silent, and Stiles looked over at him. The face he was making made Stiles nervous. Whatever question that was on his tongue was going to hurt. He could feel it, like a premonition.**

**"Why was Melissa so worried about you being okay with their relationship?" Derek finally spilled out. "Don’t mean to pry or anything. You just always seem so supportive to me, so it seemed strange. Do you guys not get along or something?"**

**Stiles' heart started beating too fast in his chest. It hadn't hit him until recently that he hadn't shared anything about his mom with Derek. It made him feel guilty. Like it was a dishonor to her memory or something. But it was just _so damn hard_. And he never knew how to bring it up.**

**Now was the perfect opportunity, he supposed.**

**The silence dragged on uncomfortably. Stiles could hear his heart beating in his ears.**

**"Sorry if that's breaching a 'no comment' zone. We can drop it. I understand." Derek's words came out fast, but sincere. Stiles knew Derek would truly understand if he didn’t want to talk about it.**

**But he needed to.**

**All of this shit with Derek getting injured had taken him back to a time in his past that hurt him more than anything. He had lost his mom in third grade, and it had been the worst time in his life. He thought of her downward spiral into illness, his dad's downward spiral into alcohol and solitude, and his own personal downward spiral into delinquency. His chest was hammering. He hadn't talked about it all to anyone in so long. He hadn’t even shared it with James when they were together.**

**It all just hurt too much.**

 

**♢♢♢**

 

Stiles shook his head and then sat himself up, resting his back against the headboard. Derek did the same thing and then hissed in pain. He rubbed his arm. It fucking hurt, of course.

 _Good fucking timing_ , he cursed himself.

Stiles was looking down at his hands, crossing them and uncrossing them over and over again. Derek hadn't seen him that uncomfortable in a while, besides when he had accidentally declared Derek as his boyfriend at the dinner table. He reached over with his sore arm, and carefully wrapped his fingers around Stiles'.

"Seriously, Stiles, we can drop it."

Stiles let out a weird laugh, but it was the kind of laugh that happens when something isn't funny at all. "We can talk about it. It just always hits me hard. It's been like fourteen years and it's still hard to talk about."

Derek squeezed his hand. _Well, shit._ He had definitely breached a touchy subject. He needed to start mentally preparing himself for the blow of the conversation, and for the inevitable story he was going to have to tell once Stiles told his. God, he had opened the door. He had no idea what would happen now.

 

**♢♢♢**

 

**Stiles took a deep breath. It rattled in his lungs. "My mom died when I was in third grade. She had been sick for almost three years. It kind of hit us all really hard - the McCall's included. She and Melissa were best friends their whole lives, like Scott and I. And she was her nurse through all of it. Melissa had to take care of my mom at the hospital and she had to take care of me while she wasn't at work. My dad had his own demons to fight with at the time, so, Melissa took me on. She's always known how hard it was for me, and how hard it still is."**

**He paused to breathe. Derek was rubbing circles on the back of his hand with his thumb. Stiles felt anchored.**

**"Melissa was there for all of it," he continued. "I accidentally called her mom once, in high school, and I think it broke her heart. So she has always kind of walked on eggshells around me when it has anything to do with herself and my dad. But Scott's dad is pretty much a huge dick, and Melissa deserves to be happy. And my dad definitely deserves to be happy, and Melissa does that for him. Yeah, she will never be mom, but she definitely fills a void for me, for us. She makes him happy and that is all I want. Him being happy again is awesome."**

**"Shit, Stiles. I had no idea."**

**Now that he had opened the gates, he couldn’t stop the words from falling out of his mouth. "I never talk about it much. It was a dark time. All of it was, and for a long time after, too. She had frontotemporal dementia. It alters your personality quite a bit, and towards the end, she was completely bedridden. And she was on so many meds that she mostly just slept anyway. It was really hard. I was young through all of it, and it seems like the only memories that I have of her that are my own, and not stories my dad has shared, are of her at varying stages of her illness. I was always so mad because I felt like I never really got to know her, I was definitely not given enough time to, and it isn't fair. It hurts. After she died, I pretty much turned into a little asshole. I did so shitty in school. I didn’t care. My dad was depressed as hell, and the last thing he needed then was me rebelling, so Melissa watched over me. She tried to guide me back to _Stiles_. It took a lot of time." Stiles laughed at that. "God, I was an ass. Like terrible. It's a wonder she didn’t disown me. Why she even let Scott continue to be my friend is beyond me. I was a terror and a horrible influence on poor young Scotty-boy."**

**Derek was still rubbing circles on the back of his hand. Stiles finally made eye contact with him, and they both kind of smiled - sad reminiscing smiles.**

**"She would have loved you. Probably would have never stopped talking about your eyes. That's one of the main things I remember about her. Always talking about my eyes." Stiles was smiling now, at the memories.**

 

**♢♢♢**

 

It was probably an inappropriate time for a kiss, but Derek couldn’t help it. He was in awe that Stiles had opened up to him about so much, and about something so personal. And in a way he felt special to be trusted with Stiles' story. So he leaned in and pecked Stiles' upturned lips, for a short second.

"Your eyes are sort of amazing, so I don’t blame her at all," Derek said, smiling tenderly.

"She, however, would not have been impressed by that line," Stiles said, raising an eyebrow. Then his face morphed again. He looked solemn. "I miss her."

Derek sighed along with Stiles, and before he realized what words were falling from his lips, he uttered them. "Yeah, sucks. I completely understand."

The look Stiles gave him was a different look of sympathy than he was used to. It wasn’t so much as a _"You poor soul."_ as a " _No. Not you too._ "

Derek just nodded once. He took a deep breath and sighed again. Stiles squeezed his hand three times, before he finally remembered how to form words. This was something he never talked about. Ever.

"There was a fire when I was seventeen. Two months left of high school. I think Cora was around eleven or so. We were both at school when it happened, but we lost both our parents and our older sister Laura to it. I wanted to run so bad. I needed to get out of that place, but I couldn’t abandon Cora. My uncle ended up moving us to a little town in New York, and I couldn’t take it. But I forced myself through it. I did some more school and entered the police academy. Then I worked my way around New York until I ultimately ended up in NYC. After Cora graduated, she told me she got into a grad program at Berkley. That's when I got in touch with your Dad, and got myself a position in Beacon Hills."

Stiles squeezed his hand again. Derek felt grounded. He also felt some release being able to talk about this with someone again.

"But yeah. It was really hard. And I haven't talked about this with anyone, but like, a therapist in high school and Cora. So yeah. I know what you mean. It's hard to bring it up. I miss them a lot."

"Thank you for telling me," Stiles said, kissing Derek's cheek. Then he stuttered his words a bit. "Wow, uh, wow. Sorry if that was, uh, weird of me to say or something."

"Not weird," Derek said. He unlaced their fingers and then wrapped his arm around Stiles' shoulders. "I was going to say the same thing to you. Thank you for trusting me with that."

 

**♢♢♢**

 

**Stiles just leaned forward and pressed his face into Derek's chest. He breathed deeply a few times, taking in the scent of him. He felt more comforted than he had in a long, long time.**

**"Laura would have thought you were _so_ annoying," Derek chuckled. "In an endearing way, of course. It must run in the family."**

**Stiles just nuzzled deeper against Derek. "I try my best," he said, his voice muffled. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."**

**Derek shrugged. "Made it through," he finally said, quietly. "And I had Cora to look after, so that helped. We're really close."**

**Stiles finally leaned away. "And she definitely thinks I'm annoying, _not_ in an endearing way."**

**Derek laughed at that. Stiles' heart swelled, hearing his laughter. It seemed to clear the air, make it lighter somehow.**

**"She's asked me how you're doing about as many times as she's asked about me, so I think you are in the clear," Derek said. Then he stage whispered, "Don't ever tell her I told you that, or she'll kick my ass."**

**Stiles was laughing now, and Derek smiled a small, effortless smile at him. That made his heart swell even bigger.**

**God, he was in trouble.**

 

**♢♢♢**

 

Stiles was snuggled against Derek again, just breathing in comfortable silence.

Derek felt so light. He hadn't felt like this before. He felt so free now, like he could talk to Stiles about anything and everything. He wrapped his arm tighter around him.

"What time do you usually get up for work," Derek asked. He knew the answer, but still, he asked.

"Like six-ish, why?"

Derek shrugged. "Want to do me a favor?"

"Depends on what it is." Stiles' voice was skeptical.

Derek was trying to ask Stiles to sleep over. He had stayed over tons of times before, but it was always on accident. They would always just fall asleep.  _Whoops_. But this was different. This was Derek consciously asking him to stay over. He was nervous.

"Well, I have to go to a meeting early, and I feel like I won't get up on my own," he alluded.

"Need a wakeup call?" Stiles asked, clueless.

He was going to make Derek ask it.

"I was actually thinking you should just stay over. Wake my ass up in the morning?"

He felt Stiles smile against his chest. "You don't have to ask me twice." Then Stiles pulled away for a moment. "I do have a favor of my own to ask though. You up for it?"

Derek had no idea what this favor was going to be but he was ready. He nodded eagerly.

"We're talking about different jobs this week in my class, and it would be cool if I could have a cop come in. I mean, my dad can always do it but-"

This was not the kind of favor he was expecting whatsoever, but he had wanted to be a fly on the wall in Stiles' classroom for a long time. He jumped on the chance. "Of course. When?"

"Talk to my dad and see what works best for you guys. I'm flexible as long as it isn't during recess or lunch. But if it's before or right after one of those I wouldn’t object. Then we could hang out for a bit."

 

* * *

 

Derek was on his way to Stiles' school, wearing what Stiles had deemed as his "cool uniform". He was originally just going to wear the tan shirt and pants that he typically wore to work, but Stiles had argued fervently against that. Stiles wanted tactical.

Derek had compromised and wore his usual uniform, complete with bulletproof vest over the top.

He was going to get there early, just so that he could experience Stiles in his classroom. He was excited. The Sheriff had laughed at him when he left, for being so enthusiastic.

"You're going to a room full of six year olds. All they're going to do is _ooh_ and _ahh_ about your gun. I've done this a lot."

But Derek wasn’t excited about the kids. He was excited to see Stiles. He had been waiting for this.

Derek had to go to the front office and get a visitor's badge. He had a very eager secretary point him in the correct direction of Stiles' classroom.

He was only 10 minutes early, but the sight he walked in on was still adorable. Derek was unsure why exactly he had been expecting organized chaos in Stiles' classroom, but he was surprised when he walked in and every kid was quietly coloring a picture of a police cruiser at their desks. The door had been propped open, so it allowed him to sneak into the classroom. The desks were facing away from the door, so he was able to stand in the back of the room unnoticed, while Stiles walked around the room and _mmm'd_ and _ahhh'd_ at everyone's pictures. At one point, he looked up and caught Derek's eye, with a smile. Derek didn’t even have to smile in return, he could already feel a smile plastered to his face.

Stiles made a motion to his chest and then gave Derek a thumbs up. Derek rolled his eyes, and laughed quietly to himself. What was with Stiles and the bulletproof vest?

He was still laughing about it, when Stiles' voice broke the silence in the room.

"Okay everyone, let's put the pictures and crayons away for now. You can work on those again after lunch."

A chorus of _awww_ 's filled the room.

Stiles clapped his hands together. "Right now we are going to do something even more fun. How about that?"

All the kids were nodding in approval. Yikes, that was a lot of pressure. He wasn’t sure how "fun" he could be.

"Right now, we have a special guest here to talk to you guys." Stiles motioned towards Derek before he continued speaking. Derek waved at all the wide eyed kids before him. "This is Chief Deputy Hale, and he works for the Beacon County Police Department. He's going to tell you all about being a police officer."

As Derek made his way to the front of the classroom, he heard at least three different kids whisper a variation on, "Ooo, he has a gun."

He was smirking already. Stiles was all grins.

"Alright, now let's give Deputy Hale our full attention. Can we do that?"

Everyone nodded, they all had their eyes fixated on Derek already. All he could think about was how weird it was to have Stiles calling him Deputy Hale again. He remembered back to being such a grump, when he made Stiles call him that exclusively.

Stiles made a motion that obviously meant the floor was his. Then he went to the back of the room and sat in his desk, seeming to be just as transfixed as his kids were.

"Hey guys!" Derek tried for that higher voice everyone seemed to use while talking to young kids. He was out of practice. He hadn't talked to kids almost ever in his life. "I'm Deputy Hale. Those were some pretty awesome pictures you were making when I got here. I actually drove a car kind of like that here from the station."

A little boy shot his hand into the air, but started talking before Derek could call on him. "Can we go see it?"

"Yeah, can we?"

The room started to grow loud.

Stiles' voice was authoritative from his desk.

"Skylar, what did I say about speaking out of turn during class?"

"I raised my hand," he pouted.

Stiles was trying to hide a smile, Derek could tell. "You have to keep your hand up until Deputy Hale calls on you, and then you can ask."

Skylar nodded, and then shot his hand back up into the air.

Derek pointed at him. "Yeah buddy?"

"Can we go see it?"

Derek was in the middle of looking up towards Stiles as he said, "That's up to Mr. Stilinski."

Stiles was shaking his head "yes" when they finally made eye contact.

Before Derek could say anything, about eight hands shot up into the air, but the kids were all turned towards Stiles now.

"Yes, Alix?"

"Can we, Mr. S?"

He nodded. "After Deputy Hale tells you a bit about being a police officer, we can all go see the cruiser."

Everyone cheered, and then became completely transfixed on Derek.

He was able to speak for about ten minutes about stranger danger and about what to say on the phone when calling 9-1-1 before the next hand shot up.

He called on the boy in the front row.

"Is that a real gun?"

Derek nodded. "It sure is." He had to laugh internally, thinking of the Sheriff.

Someone else raised their hand. He called on the girl.

"Did you get hurt protecting people from bad guys?" She asked. Her face was red, like she was embarrassed for asking.

Derek held up his arm that was still in the brace, and then looked down at his braced leg. He wasn’t on his crutch right now, but it was in the back of the room, by Stiles' desk. "I did, but I'm all better now. The doctors fixed me all up."

The kids all looked awestruck.

He got more and more questions, like "Have you ever arrested anyone?" and "Can we see your gun?"

The kids and the damn gun were just as bad as Stiles and the bulletproof vest.

Stiles finally stood up and spoke from the back of the room. "Lunch is in less than ten minutes. Does anyone have any more questions?"

The kids all _awww_ 'd again.

"No more? Alright, let's all line up at the door so Der- so Deputy Hale can show us his cruiser."

Everyone rushed into a line. Derek was about to go grab his crutch from the back of the room, but Stiles was already carrying it. He could feel Stiles assessing his walking abilities as he made his way over to the front of the line.

"Need this? We can come back in here for lunch and grab it if you don’t."

He grabbed the crutch and put it under his arm.

"This makes me look cooler," he said, with a very subtle wink.

"Yeah, the kids are crazy about you." Stiles made his eyes huge O's and then said in a baby voice: "Did you get hurt protecting us from bad guys?"

Derek just chuckled and shrugged, "What can I say? I'm a pretty big deal."

Stiles just nudged him with a bony elbow before opening the door and allowing Derek to lead the way.

The kids were in a frenzy while Derek showed them the different parts of his cruiser. He even turned on the lights. The kids all groaned when Stiles said the sirens were too loud. Derek walked with them all the way to the cafeteria, getting more and more questions.

Before the kids lined up, he pulled out a bag from behind his back.

"I brought everyone a treat for having such good questions," he said. He had brought a bunch of plastic police badge pins.

He helped Stiles pin the badges onto all the kids before sending them off to lunch.

When Derek got to the shy girl that had asked him about his arm, she quietly told him, "Thank you."

He handed her an extra pin, and she smiled and put it into her pocket.

 

**♢♢♢**

 

**"Want to stay for lunch? I brought enough leftovers for two," Stiles asked, after all the kids were safe inside the cafeteria.**

**"I'm all yours," Derek said.**

**Stiles nearly walked into a table. He hoped Derek hadn't noticed. He probably had.**

**"Uh, cool, so uh, teacher's lounge is this way."**

**Stiles hardly ever ate in the teacher's lounge. He usually spent this time sitting at his desk either texting Derek, or talking to Derek on the phone. But okay, so maybe he wanted to show off his sexy Chief Deputy boyfriend. Where was the harm in that?**

**They sat at a small table by themselves, but he was still quite satisfied by all of the double takes that were made at Derek Hale.**

**_Yeah, that's his_. **


	15. planned

Derek was finally out of both his braces.He was back to working at (almost) full force. He was still a little shaky on his leg, but it was getting there. He just wanted to go for a lengthy run, but he wasn’t about to push it. Walking for too long still kind of hurt when he hit the ground just right.  


He was also less cranky, which at first he had assumed made things better for Stiles. Now, however, all Stiles did was complain about having nothing to do.

Derek had offered earlier to make them dinner. Stiles grumbled over the phone about it for a few minutes, but finally handed over the reins. Stiles sounded reluctant over the phone, but Derek could still hear the smile on his voice. 

Derek grilled some chicken, cut a plethora of veggies, and made elaborate salads. As much as he loved Stiles' cooking, he needed to lay off all of those calories until he could properly work out again. Physical therapy and walking between his office and the bathroom a few times a day only burned so many calories.

He was putting stuff back into the fridge when he heard Chevy bark happily. Before he could turn around, arms wrapped around his neck, and a kiss was planted right on his cheek. He closed the refrigerator and then turned around so that he could face Stiles.

They kissed for a few seconds, but Stiles pulled away. Derek heard his stomach growl.

"What's for dinner? I'm fucking starved, dude. The kids had me running laps around the classroom today."

He smirked at the thought. Now that he had experienced Stiles' class room, he could picture the scene. He was finally about to answer, when he noticed Stiles eyeing the food on the counter.

"You made salad to go with dinner, too? Wow, we're getting fancy up in here."

Derek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "The salad  _is _ dinner, Stiles."

Stiles stared at him, unblinking, like Derek had just said the most stupid thing in the world.

"Healthy," was all Derek ended up saying. He pointed at the salad.

Stiles shook his head. "Like _you,_ of all people, need to eat healthy. Look at you. You're like one-hundred-percent pure muscle."

"Yeah, and maybe I'd like to stay that way."

Stiles poked Derek square in the chest. "See if I ever make you dinner again."

Derek laughed and shoved a plate into Stiles' hands. Why did he like someone  _so_ annoying?

They ate in silence for quite a while. Stiles got up to get seconds without a word. Derek grinned to himself at that. 

"Okay, I'll admit it," Stiles finally said, his mouth full of food, "this is awesome. Did you put crack in here or something?"

"Told you," Derek said, rolling his eyes. "And, no."   


Stiles smiled at him for a moment, but then his face fell into a serious line. "I'm still making pasta this week. Sorry not sorry."

Derek sighed, but didn’t argue. All his efforts would be in vain.

They cleared the table and then washed the dishes in comfortable silence. Afterword, they hunkered down on Derek's couch. They were sitting close. Derek had his arm draped across Stiles' shoulders, remote in his hand. He was browsing Netflix for something to watch.

"Oh, oh," Stiles nearly shouted. " _Fox and the Hound_ is on here now? We are _ so_ watching that. Prepare to cry and have a terrible case of nostalgia." He wrestled the remote from Derek's grasp, selected the movie and then proceeded to chuck the remote across the room to keep Derek from changing the movie.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" Stiles shrugged. "Just figured you'd be opposed to Disney."

"What is it?" Derek asked. He never watched a lot of television when he was growing up. He did a strange thing called playing outside.

Stiles' looked at him incredulously. Then he got off of the couch dramatically, and plopped himself down on the recliner across the room.

" _It_  was only my favorite movie in the history of ever when I was little. I cannot sit next to the likes of you until you've seen it."

Derek shook his head. "I'm in love with an idiot," he said, with a sigh. 

It only took half a second for him to realize what he had just said. He could feel his face growing hot and red. Once again, he was thankful for his lack of shaving. He didn’t even want to know what kind of horrific expression he was currently sporting. He couldn’t even look across the room towards Stiles. There was _no way_ he could have missed that slip-up. 

Still he tried to backpedal. He coughed loudly. It was definitely  _not fake_. Then he scrambled to cover himself up. "Stiles, you're an idiot."

Maybe he hadn't noticed...

God-fucking-dammit, where the hell did that even come from? He had never loved anyone before besides his family and maybe Chevy. But what was even stranger to him was the fact that he didn’t regret saying the words. They weren't necessarily untrue. They didn’t even feel wrong. They had just sort of fallen right out of his mouth. He was shocked that he had even spoken them in the first place. He glanced over at Stiles quickly and saw the shadow of a shocked expression fading from his face.

_Dammit_. Stiles had most definitely heard him.

♢♢♢

 

** "I'm in love with an idiot," Derek said. His tone was nonchalant, like he wasn’t saying  _the freaking most important sentence of Stiles' short life_.  **

** Stiles couldn’t control his features. His eyes opened so wide that the air in the room hurt them. His jaw hung slack - open in shock. The corners of Stiles' mouth were twitching into a smile when Derek's face changed. He went from calm to looking like he had just uttered something terrible.  **

** Then he coughed and reworded his sentence into something more believable: "Stiles, you're an idiot." **

** He looked away quickly, before Derek could make eye contact with him. He tried to compose his features to the best of his ability. He was pretty sure that he was epically failing at that. **

** He was supposed to say something. That was how conversations worked, unfortunately. But he didn’t know what to do. He had two choices: mention what Derek had just said, or pretend Derek hadn't said it at all, like Derek was obviously trying to do. **

** He decided to go with the latter to avoid conflict.  **

** For now. **

** "I'll have to add that to the ol' resume. Right under Hyperactive Spaz." **

**_ Oops_. That was a bit self-deprecating even for him. He had also forgotten to laugh.  **

** The most uncomfortable silence ever witnessed fell upon the room. He was really bad at the whole pretending-what-had-just-happened-had-never-happened thing. **

** "It's okay," Derek shrugged. "I kind of have a thing for this hyperactive spaz I know. Him being an idiot is somehow an added bonus." **

** "All part of the Stiles Stilinski Charm," he said, halfheartedly. "Won you over with it, didn’t I?" **

** "I'm honestly still trying to figure out how exactly that happened," Derek said, rolling his eyes. **

** They were both trying a little too hard at pretending the L-bomb had never been dropped. **

** Stiles opened his mouth to say  _something_ , but then Scott barreled into the room from the kitchen. Stiles hadn't even heard him come into the house, but he was damn thankful that he had. He had no idea what words were potentially about to spill out of himself if he hadn't been interrupted by Scott.  **

** Derek glared at him from the couch. "Now  _you're _ breaking into my house, too?" **

** "Dude, I knocked twice, but the door was unlocked. Who has time to wait around for you two to open the damn door when there are festivities to be had." **

** Derek looked about as thrilled as a kid about to go get a root canal.  **

** Scott snickered, and Stiles shot him a glance that hopefully said:  _Oh my god, bro, you're my hero_. **

** Scott gave him a small smile. He got it. **

** "Off your asses you two," Kira said as she appeared behind Scott. **

** "Good lord," Derek sighed. **

** Kira's expression fell for a moment, until Stiles cracked up. **

** He couldn’t keep himself from laughing. His friends were awesome. **

** He jumped off of the recliner and smiled at Scott and Kira. H** **e wanted to thank them for their impeccably good timing. "Festivities, eh? What kind of festivities are we speaking of here?" He only waited half a second for them to answer and then interrupted. "You know what? Fuck it. I'm down for whatever shenanigans you two have planned. You coming, Officer Grumpy?" **

** Derek grumbled a few times, but got off of the couch regardless. Stiles walked ahead of him, staying by Scott and Kira as they walked across the lawn to their own house. **

** "Story later," Stiles whispered to Scott, right before they went inside. **

** He held the door open for Derek and pinched his ass as he walked through the doorway. "That's for calling me an idiot," Stiles said. And then he pressed himself up against Derek. He looked up slowly and then put his mouth against Derek's but didn’t kiss him. Derek tried to kiss him, but he backed away slightly. "Ah, ah, ah." Stiles waggled a finger at him. He put his mouth back against Derek's and whispered, "And this is for agreeing that I'm a hyperactive spaz."  **

** "Would you two please stop whatever the hell you're doing and get in here," Scott yelled from the kitchen.  **

** Stiles turned away from Derek right on cue and walked away. **

** He was trying really hard to act normal, but he was getting more and more upset as the seconds passed. Why had Derek looked so mortified about what he had said? He had looked so... regretful. Stiles sighed as he joined Scott and Kira at the kitchen counter. Who the hell was he kidding? Derek actually loving him was a whole lot of wishful thinking anyway.  **

** Arms wrapped around him from behind, and then Derek's scruffy cheek was against his.**

** "What are we doing anyway?" Derek asked. **

** Scott had his arms behind his back. When he moved, he revealed a handle of whiskey and shot glasses. "Shots!" **

** "Yesssss!" Stiles shouted, right as Derek groaned, "Nooo." **

** "Regretting only eating salad for dinner now, buddy?" Stiles asked, grinning evilly. "Or should I say  _bunny_?" **

** Derek ignored that, rolling his eyes. "I have to-" he started.  **

** Scott cut him off. "Work tomorrow? No you don’t. Now that Stiles is basically my real brother, I have newly granted permission to call his dad to tell him to give you the day off tomorrow. Which he did by the way. You're welcome." **

** Derek opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing.  **

** Stiles laughed harder. **

** "Now, shots!" Kira said. **

** Scott was already filling their glasses. Derek took his from Scott with chagrin. **

** "To an awesome night," Scott cheers'd.  **

** They all clinked glasses and took the shot.  **

** Stiles barely had time to put his glass down on the counter before Scott was refilling it. **

** "Ugh," Derek moaned. "Drinking." **

** They all took their second shot. **

** "Pre-gaming," Scott corrected, afterward. "It's important." **

** Stiles just looked at him in question. **

** "It's the best way to enjoy the Beacon County Fair, obviously." **

** Stiles grinned. Derek groaned. **

 

♢♢♢

 

Derek hated fairs. He hated having to arrest drunken idiots and he also hated giving MICs to the kids who were unlucky enough to get caught. He also hated greasy fair food that would take him months of running to work off at this rate. 

He put his shot glass down on the counter and pointed at it.

He wasn’t about to do this sober.

"That's the spirit," Stiles said, nudging him with his elbow.

_ Hardly_, Derek wanted to say. Instead he just nodded.

 

* * *

 

A more than likely stupid amount of shots later, Sheriff Stilinski was at the front door. Derek wanted to crawl into a hole and hide there forever.

"You kiddos ready to go?" he yelled from the doorway. "I need to be there, well, now."

Derek looked up at Stiles who looked just about as mortified as Derek felt.

"Oh, right," Scott whispered. "Stiles, your dad is giving us a ride there. My mom will pick us up later."

Stiles glared at him, but then sighed. "I guess my dad was going to have to experience Actually Drunk Stiles sooner or later."

Scott frowned at him, looking sincerely apologetic, but then ushered them all into the entryway.

Derek tried to make himself seem shorter, but he still felt entirely too exposed.

They also probably smelled like a fucking minibar.

Still, Sheriff Stilinski didn’t even look the least bit surprised at the rag-tag crew standing in front of him. 

Stiles was super quiet. He led them out to the car.

Derek watched in horror as Stiles made a beeline for the back seat, basically at a full-out sprint.

_Don’t you do it. Don’t you fucking do it_ , he was screaming in his head. 

"Thought I'd make you work on your first Beacon County Fair did you?" Sheriff Stilinski said. He smacked his hand on Derek's shoulder. "Looks like you get shotgun."

_Lovely._

Derek just nodded. He didn’t want to open his mouth. He didn’t want to speak. He was honestly afraid to breathe. This was his boss, and also his boyfriend's father. And Derek was definitely thoroughly buzzed.

He made sure to glare at Stiles as he climbed into the front seat.

Stiles mouthed the word,  _Sorry_. Then he finally spoke up.  "I haven't been to this since high school."

Kira piped up too, helping to cut the wall of awkwardness. "I've never been to a fair before."

"What? Never? You'll love it!" Stiles said cheerfully, and now probably a little too loudly (Stilinski chuckled). "The food is the best part. It will be even better since we're drunk."

"Yeah," Scott laughed. "Going to the fair drunk is always better. In high school, we used to sneak Stiles' dad's Jack Daniels and drink it at the preserve and then walk to the fair. It was always a blast."

Derek couldn’t stop the snicker that escaped his lips with he saw a look of sheer horror cross Stiles' face in the rearview mirror. He turned in his seat to watch everything unfold. Scott was frozen in place, and Kira was looking down at her hands. 

Derek was trying his hardest not to crack up, and failing miserably at it.

"Ahem," Stilinski cleared his throat. "Remember that  _Stiles' dad _ is chauffeuring you right now, and that _Stiles' dad_ is dating your mother, and that  _Stiles' dad _ is the Sheriff."

Scott sunk down lower into his seat. Stiles reached across Kira and punched him in the arm.

"Boys,"  Stilinski scolded, with a smile. 

* * *

 

After buying drink tickets and trading them for some beers, the pairs split off. Scott pulled Kira towards all the games, bragging that he could win her any stuffed animal she wanted.

"I don’t have any time for games," Stiles said, grabbing Derek's hand with one hand, and taking a swig of his beer that was in the other. "I'm all about rides. What should we go on first?"

Derek didn’t say a word. Another thing about fairs that he hated were the rides. They all just seemed so rinky-dink. They had to be taken apart and put back together every year, and that worried him. He didn’t trust it.

Also, heights weren't really his thing either.

He pointed towards the go-kart racetrack. 

Stiles nodded, "I like your style, Speed Racer. But that line is huge. It usually goes down after nine when all the kids have to go home for bed."

Stiles tugged at Derek's arm, pulling him in a different direction. "Here, this line is always short. We could ride it a couple of times. It's the shit."

Derek also didn’t like that the same rides were here from when Stiles was in high school. Granted that was only about four and a half years ago, but still.

Stiles had to be shitting him. They came to a stop right in front of the most terrifying looking death trap Derek had ever laid eyes on.  _The Evolution_. He had seen the ride at other fairs, and never imagined riding it. Maybe just in a nightmare or two, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, ever.

It was like a Ferris wheel from hell. The seats were positioned in a circle on a hub-like structure, which was then rotated to be held straight up into the air. To make matters worse, the seats spun as well, adding an extra edge of danger to it. Basically, a few pieces of metal held the riders straight upside-down over the asphalt for an extended period of time.   


"Come on, dude!" Stiles chided. He was all smiles and excitement. His demeanor almost had Derek skipping into the line along with him. 

He stopped in his tracks right at the start of the short line. He was not going on that ride. No way in hell.

"I, uh, I gotta piss," Derek lied.

Stiles saw right through him. "Are you scaaaared?" he taunted. Then he tugged relentlessly at Derek's arm again. "C'mon, dude."

Derek decided it had to be the truth, or he was going to get stuck riding on that death trap. "Heights aren't really my thing, if I'm being honest."

Stiles stared at him, a look of awe and incredulousness shimmering in his eyes. "You, Mr. Brawny-Strong-Mighty-Derek Hale, _you_ are afraid of heights?" 

Derek glared at him. "I can tolerate heights to an extent, but I think it's mostly the added thought of being held upside-down in the air by a couple of metal pieces that random people take apart and put back together once a year, and some stoned high school student monitors as a seasonal job. Not my idea of the safest thing in the world."

"Derek's afraid of heights," Stiles taunted. "Derek Hale's afraid of-"

Derek shoved a hand over Stiles' mouth. "Shut it, Stilinski."

Stiles stuck out his tongue and slobbered all over Derek's palm.

"Gah," he groaned, yanking his hand away. He was smiling though. "You're such an idiot."

Stiles glared at him. "There you go with that whole idiot thing again."

"I- I- uh."

"And for that, we are going on this ride."

"Stiles."

Stiles didn’t respond, he just pulled Derek into the line.

They waited in silence. Derek could tell that he was sporting a completely vacant expression. He was trying everything in his power to not be mentally present for the ride somehow.

"Don’t worry, grumpy, it will be over in a second."

"I hope I puke all over you."

"Wouldn’t be the first time," Stiles shrugged.

Derek grimaced. 

But for some stupid reason, he stayed in line with Stiles. Even though his stomach was flying with all the wrong kinds of butterflies, and his blood was thick with adrenaline, he still waited in line for the stupid fucking ride.

When they were the next group up, Stiles tugged on Derek's arm and then ducked under the ropes, pulling them out of the line.

Relief washed over him, and then he looked at Stiles in question.

Stiles smirked. "That was funny. And kind of evil. We're just going to go on the Ferris wheel."

"I hate you," Derek said. But he didn’t. He didn’t at all.

There were only a handful of groups waiting in line for the Ferris wheel, so they got on right after walking up. 

He still didn’t trust the mechanics of it, but the Ferris wheel was definitely more Derek's speed.

That _was_ true  until Stiles opened his big mouth.

Right after the ride started moving Stiles looked at him. "See this isn't so bad is it?" He smiled for a moment, but then his face fell into a mask of seriousness. "Unless some _Final Destination_ shit goes down and we are sent rolling to our demise in a giant, light- up death-wheel."

Derek accidently squeezed Stiles' hand a bit tighter. "You little shit."

"That's a term of endearment as far as I'm concerned."

Right then, they made it to the very top. The fucking Ferris wheel stopped. Derek was thankful for the fact that he was still buzzing. Otherwise, he might be taking this a bit more sourly. 

"What's happening? Why did they stop? Why-"

Stiles pressed a finger to Derek's lips. "Cool your jets. They're just letting more people on the ride."

An uncomfortable amount of seconds ticked by, and they didn’t move.

"Stiles."

Stiles didn’t respond though, he was too busy leaning over the edge of their basket, half of his body hanging out into the open air.

Derek grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back into his seat.

"Stiles. What's going on? And don’t do that. You're such an-"

"Idiot?" Stiles cut him off. "Yet another term of endearment, Mr. Hale. For what it's worth, I think you're an idiot, too." Then he winked.

Derek just pressed himself back into his seat. There was a time and a place for flirting, but this was not it. Maybe for every other couple in the world, but not for him. They still weren't moving and he didn’t like it at all. He looked over to see Stiles leaning over the side again. This time his feet weren't even touching the bottom of their basket. 

Derek's heart leapt into his throat and he lunged forward, pulling Stiles back into his seat for a second time.

Stiles looked over at him like Derek was a crazy person. "What? I'm trying to see what's going on down there."

"You could get yourself hurt." That was the understatement of the century. He could get himself killed.

"My hero," Stiles said dramatically, pecking Derek's cheek.

Thirty seconds passed, but it felt like hours. Then they began to rotate again. Derek wanted off the ride. It was going to break down. Something was going to go wrong.

But they couldn’t get off. They kept going around and around. The ride was never going to end. 

This was his fucking nightmare.

He knew Stiles was watching him, so he kept facing forward. 

He felt a thousand pounds lift off of him when they finally came to a safe stop at the bottom and his feet hit solid ground. 

 

♢♢♢

 

** "After that, I need a drink," Derek said. He still looked slightly exasperated, but he seemed to be calming down. Stiles had to smile. It was cute seeing Derek act like a normal human being - getting scared and shit. "And also, let's sit down somewhere." Derek patted his left thigh. "Feeling a little sore." **

** "You got it dude," Stiles said with a smile. "Sit over there, and I'll go buy drink tickets and get some beers." **

** Stiles met up with Scott on his way to purchase tickets, and he stopped him. Scott had an excited grin on his face. He also smelled like beer.  Like a lot of beer, actually. **

** "Don’t buy that shit. Look!" **

** He shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out two handfuls of drink tickets. "Kira and I walked the entire fair like twenty times and found all of these." **

** "Hell yeah," Stiles said, grabbing forward and taking a handful from Scott. "Now we can drink all night." **

** "Dude, you had a story?" Scott reminded him as they waited in line to get their beers. **

** "Oh, right." Stiles relayed him the whole event from earlier that day. "But things seem to be okay now. I guess we're both just pretending that nothing ever happened." **

** Scott was nodding his head, a faraway look in his eyes. "So, why don't you say it then?" **

** "Huh?" **

** "Well if that's how you feel, then say it. Why not? He's probably freaking out just as much as you. Your dad _is_ kind of his boss. That would make anyone nervous about getting super serious with someone." **

** "James was never nervous." **

** "James was a dick," Scott reminded him.  **

** "True. I'll think about it." **

** Scott smacked him on the shoulder and smiled. They both traded tickets for beers. **

** "Well, gotta go find Kira." **

** "Thanks for the tickets, man." **

** "No worries," Scott said as he walked away. "Getting them was child's play." **

** Stiles walked back over to Derek slowly. He was buried under his thoughts. He had repressed them all earlier, but now that he was drunk, they were easier to think about. He loved Derek Hale. It was scary, and the idea of saying it to Derek's face still made him want to take off running in the opposite direction. But it was true. He loved him. His cynical side was just not ready for the possible rejection. Optimistically speaking, however, agreed with Scott for the most part. Maybe Derek was just freaking out like he was. He had said the words hadn't he? And they had seemed to come out naturally, not forced. Maybe Derek was just surprised by the fact. Stiles would never know unless the whole thing was brought up one way or another. **

** "Stiles?" Derek's voice broke through his thoughts.  **

**_ Oops_. Stiles had walked right past him. He turned and smiled at Derek, thrusting a beer into his hand. **

** They sat in silence for a while. Stiles was getting antsy though. His leg was bobbing a constant rhythm under the table, and he was drumming his fingers across the surface.  **

** Eventually Derek placed a hand over his, stopping his fingers. "You ready to walk around some more?" **

** Stiles nodded, thankful. They stood at the same time, and Stiles laced his fingers between Derek's. "Maybe we should go find Scott and Kira?" **

** Derek just seemed to follow along. They each ended up getting yet another beer, and went to the liquor tent and took ridiculously small, over-priced shots of Fireball. At least they were free now with all the drink tickets from Scott. **

** They wandered the vicinity of the fair, until they found themselves in a more open, remote area. A few people were scattered around, sitting in the grass, eating or just resting. Stiles stopped in an empty area and wrapped his arms around Derek's waist, shoving his free hand into the back pocket of Derek's jeans. He squeezed his ass, and grinned as Derek's breath hitched. **

** Stiles was slightly shocked at his own forwardness, but to his defense, he had never been this drunk in front of Derek. At least recently, with their newfound status. **

** He pressed himself into Derek and moved in to kiss him. Before he could, Derek backed away quickly, causing Stiles' hand to be pulled from his pocket. He couldn’t help but frown. **

** Derek grabbed Stiles' hand and then sighed. "Scott and Kira. Let's find them." **

** Now Stiles was just along for the ride. He made no effort to text Scott or Kira, which he could easily have done forever ago. In all honestly, he didn’t want to find them yet. He just wanted to get his hands back on Derek freaking Hale. **

** The alcohol wasn’t helping. **

** Stiles skidded to a stop, planting his feet roughly onto the ground. Derek jolted to a stop and turned to look at him. **

 

♢♢♢

 

"What's wrong," Derek asked, eyeing Stiles, who looked upset about something.

_ Shit. _ Was he about to bring up what Derek had said earlier? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. He was not ready to face that beast yet. Not right now. Not here. 

"Oh my freaking god, Derek. Just kiss me already." 

Okay, he had not been expecting that.

Then he remembered only moments ago, when Stiles had grabbed his ass and tried to kiss him. Maybe he should have expected it. 

Stupid alcohol. 

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and puffed out a huge burst of air. He looked just like a pouty child. Derek could actually picture a much younger Stiles doing this same thing to his father when he was told "no".

He couldn’t keep the smirk off of his face. He even laughed a little. 

Why was he encouraging that kind of behavior? 

Oh, right, because he was drunk.

"I can't do that right now," Derek said, without thinking before speaking. 

Stiles pursed his lips and his whole face seemed to tighten. He sent a glare Derek's way, then he frowned. "What?" he asked, softly. "Are you embarrassed to be seen kissing me in public?"

Stiles was trying to mask his disappointment with false anger, Derek could tell. It was almost as though he could smell it on him.

"Far from it," he responded. He hated seeing Stiles look that upset. He closed every centimeter of space between them, wrapping his arm tightly around Stiles' shoulders. He leaned in, so that his mouth was right on Stiles' ear. Then he whispered, "I would kiss you, but there is a high probability that I won't stop. And what comes next is frowned upon in a public establishment such as this."

_ Hello alcohol, goodbye inhibition.  _

He leaned away and winked at Stiles. It was just payback for all the times Stiles had given him _the_ _wink_.

Stiles choked on his sip of beer.  _T_ _ake that_.  Then he backed away so that Derek could see him deepen his glare. 

Derek pulled him back in for a moment, lips to ear once again. "At least now you can have a visual," he deadpanned.

Stiles ripped himself out from under Derek's arm, and then shoved his shoulder. "Ugh, you're the worst." He started walking away, dramatically.

"Where are you going?"

God, did his voice have to sound so disappointed?

Stiles was only a few feet away. He turned back around, a mischievous smirk playing about his face. 

He took a few steps back towards Derek and whispered in his ear. "Oh, just to the bathroom. It's about time I take advantage of that picture you just painted in my mind." He looked down and then slowly back up, eventually winking at Derek, who had his mouth hanging wide open.

He was trying fervently to push the thought of Stiles' jacking himself off in the bathroom out of his mind. 

Stiles' laugh broke through his thoughts and he snapped back to life. "Dammit," he accidentally said aloud.

"Ha!" Stiles jabbed a finger into his chest. "Got you! I just gotta take a piss, but at least now you can have a visual."

Derek was still standing there, frozen in the midst of the crowd, trying to control his inebriated thoughts, as Stiles skipped away still laughing loudly.

_ That little fucker. _

Derek tried to bring himself back down to earth, and eventually made his way over to a table. Stiles would find him there eventually. He sipped on his beer. It needed to be his last. He was starting to lose his filter, and the last bits of his already fading self-control.

He and Stiles had never been this forward with each other before. This was new. And it was fun. But it was harder to keep a hold of himself the more he drank. He needed to stop before he just fucking pounced on Stiles in the middle of the fair. He would not get arrested by his boss - his boyfriend's father - for public indecency and public intoxication. 

He was forcing himself to plan out a new exercise regime when a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Here you go." 

It was Stiles, handing him a fresh, ice cold beer.  _Damn_. He got up and threw the one he was drinking away. It was  lukewarm and nearly gone anyway.

They had just started walking when Stiles rashly let go of Derek's hand. 

"Shit-shit-shit," he cursed. He ducked behind Derek.

The first thing that crossed Derek's mind was that Stiles was flipping about James again. He scanned the crowd for that asshole, but didn’t see him.

"Mr. S. Hi, Mr. S!" 

Derek didn’t even stand a chance at holding in his laughter. Two little girls were running towards them, faces bright with excitement. One of the girls had a plastic police badge pinned to her dress. She was staring at Derek quizzically.  

Stiles shoved his beer into Derek's hand and then popped out from behind him - his persona changing completely.

"Hey girls," he said, happily. Derek could notice the tension in Stiles, but they surely wouldn’t. "Enjoying the fair?"

"Mhm," the girl wearing the badge said. She was covered ear to ear in chocolate. "Are you that police guy from school?" 

"What were you drinking, Mr. S?" The other girl asked. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Stiles held up his empty hands. "I've been looking for the drinking fountain actually. Have either of you two seen one?"

They both shook their heads no. 

"Hi, Mr. Police Guy," the badge wearing girl said, waving at Derek. "Why do you have that beard? Is it scratchy?"

Derek laughed. He was going to respond, but the little girl already had her attention geared back to Stiles.

"Why are you at the fair, Mr. S?"

"Same reason you guys are. The food." He smiled and then pulled some tickets out of his pocket. He must have bought some food tickets when he had gotten their beers. "Go get some more treats," he said as he handed them each a few tickets. "You two look like you could use some more sugar."

"YES!" one of the girls cried. Then she hugged Stiles' leg.

It was probably the cutest thing Derek had ever seen.

"See you on Monday," he said, waving them off.

"Bye Mr. S, bye police guy!"

Then they were gone.

Stiles turned around and looked at Derek, rolling his eyes. "You seem to have a fan club in my classroom. I, of course, am the leader of said club, but they've all been wearing those badges nonstop. I'm kind of actually hurt that I didn't get one too."   


"Well, that's adorable," Derek said, hiding his honesty with sarcasm. He still couldn't help but smile. 

"Why the hell do kids act like they're seeing a real-life unicorn when they see their teacher in public?" Stiles groaned. He snatched his beer and took a swig. Then Derek latched his fingers around Stiles'. He leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.

"You were fine," he assured. "Let's go this way." He pulled Stiles into the complete opposite direction.

 

* * *

It had been another thirty minutes. Derek was about to tell Stiles to text Scott, when he heard a booming voice behind them.

"Stiles, Derek. Wait up."

It was Scott, with Kira on his arm. She was hauling a giant stuffed-animal wolf. They looked happy and excited and as drunk as Derek felt.

"The fair ends soon. We should probably put the rest of these to use." Scott pulled out the remaining drink tickets from his pockets.

Derek agreed with a smile on his face, until he remembered that the beer before the one he had just finished was meant to be his last. 

_ Well, that wasn’t going to fucking happen. _

Together they went to the liquor tent, ordered a few rounds of tiny shots, each got a beer and then traded someone the rest of their drink tickets for food tickets.

They made their way over to the greasy fair food stands. What had been Derek's worst nightmare earlier was now the greatest thing ever. Greasy fair food. Everything smelled fucking amazing.

Stiles gabbed his arm and yanked him over to a particular stand. Derek let him order whatever he was getting. How could it be bad? He was so drunk, anything was bound to taste fantastic.

The four of them met back up at a table. Scott was devouring a giant funnel cake before he even sat down. He had powdered sugar everywhere. Derek laughed. Kira had one as well, but it was drowned in chocolate syrup and ice-cream. Derek's stomach growled loudly.

"What is it?" he asked as Stiles sat down a tray in front of him. There was a nondescript fried  _something _ on the plate, covered in powdered sugar.

"Just try it. Trust me."

Derek did as he was told. 

"Holy shit," he said, with his mouth full. It was probably the best and equally most unhealthy thing he had ever eaten.

"Told you," Stiles said, blissfully, his mouth full of food as well. "Deep fried PBnJ. There's no going back from this. Only life before and life after you try a deep fried PBnJ."

Derek laughed, but didn’t say anything. He was too busy inhaling his food. He wanted another one, it was that good. But the food stands were slowly closing down. The fair was ending.

 

♢♢♢

 

** The ride home was interesting. Stiles was less than excited for Melissa to see him hammered. Scott seemed on edge too, and nearly shoved Kira into the front seat. Derek had made a beeline straight to the backseat, followed by Stiles and Kira, so Scott was S.O.L. **

** "Looks like you all had a good night," she said, biting down a laugh. "Smells like it too. How much did you guys drink?" **

** "Scott searched for drink tickets on the ground all night, so we got a lot of free drinks," Stiles piped up from the back seat. Scott shot him a glare quickly, and Stiles shrugged.  _Payback from earlier_. **

** Melissa laughed. "That's my boy!" **

** The rest of the ride was silent.  **

** Stiles was stuck riding bitch, so he was squished in-between Derek and Kira. His whole left side was hot against Derek's right, and he pushed himself into him, enjoying the pressure. Derek swallowed hard enough that Stiles could hear it, and god, it was not helping his current situation. He needed his hands on Derek now. He scooted back into the middle and sighed. He started bobbing his leg up and down sporadically.  **

** The anticipation was killing him.  **

** He needed to be home. **

 

♢♢♢

 

They clambered out of Ms. McCall's car and stood in an awkward half circle waving at her until her car disappeared in the distance. 

"Well, that was fun," Scott said.

Scott, Kira and Stiles then started into stories of the night. Derek tuned them out. He was still recovering from sitting so close to Stiles the whole way home. He couldn’t stand out there much longer. He was about to start kissing Stiles right there in front of Scott and Kira, and that would be bad.

"Okay, one more," Stiles was saying as Derek snapped back into the conversation. "Let's go, big guy."

What had he just agreed to?

Derek was upset as he was pulled towards Scott and Stiles' house. He was on the last ounce of his self-control.

They gathered around the kitchen counter, where the bottle of whiskey waited for them.

So they were doing one more shot.  _Lovely_. 

Derek sucked it up and tried to look cheerful. The sooner this was over the sooner he could have Stiles to himself.

He glanced to the side and caught a knowing smile from Stiles himself. He smiled back. They all clinked their glasses and took the shot. 

They then said good night, and he and Stiles walked next door. Stiles lead the way, smiling hugely. His grin grew bigger as he punched the numbers into the garage door opener. Derek couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. Stiles was a dork. He felt a smile growing across his own face.

Derek was still smiling - fucking smitten - when they made it into the house.

"Dude, did you have fun?" Stiles asked. "It looks to me like there's a smile somewhere under that scruff of yours."

Derek was apprehensive to admit it, but he had an excellent night. He was still on some strange alcohol and Stiles induced high. He just nodded. That was easier for him than admitting it out loud.

"Even the scary Ferris wheel?"

Derek smiled at Stiles fondly. "You're an idiot," he said, for the umpteenth time that night. Then he planted an entirely too sloppy kiss somewhere in close vicinity to Stiles' mouth.

Stiles grinned at him. "I'm in love with you too, you know," he said. Then he kissed Derek's frozen lips.

_ What? _  Had he slipped up again?

Stiles then went into a long, fast paced, drunken explanation. "I know that's what you're trying to say when you call me an idiot. You slipped up earlier. You don’t honestly believe that I didn’t hear you from five feet away do you? It's okay if you don’t want to say the actual words. I know it's there. I know what you mean."

Derek was just staring at Stiles, confusion his prominent emotion . Stiles loved him? And he loved Stiles? 

Dammit, he did love Stiles. He did. And it was weird and scary and it took him being a little drunk to finally admit it to himself, but Stiles was who he wanted every Saturday night and on Sunday mornings. Fuck it. He wanted Stiles every day of the goddamn week.

Stiles was still talking. "It's okay. I did the same thing before, when I broke in and left you that long, drunken message when you were out of town for work. I uuf-"

Derek cut him off, pressing Stiles haphazardly up against the door they had just come through. Stiles' head banged roughly against  it. Derek was about to apologize when Stiles clawed at Derek's face, reaching to grab fists of his hair. He jerked Derek towards himself roughly until Derek had Stiles pinned against the door tightly. He wanted to be closer - impossibly close. He caught Stiles' bottom lip between his teeth, and then kissed him, pressing his body hard against him.

Stiles' hands were everywhere - pulling Derek's hair, digging into the back of his neck - until they eventually stopped at the hem of Derek's shirt. He pulled it up as far as he could, and then Derek pushed off of the door for a moment to rip his shirt off the rest of the way.

He moved back to Stiles, kissing up his neck until he had Stiles' earlobe pinched between his teeth. Stiles sucked in a sharp breath and his fingers dug into Derek's back.

"I'm feeling slightly underdressed," Derek whispered into his ear.

Stiles nodded once, and then planted his palm firmly in the center of Derek's chest. He pushed him away for a second, so that he could slip out of a hoody and a flannel, and then yank off his t-shirt. 

Derek was staring. He couldn’t help it. He had never seen Stiles this bare. He was usually always in multiple layers of clothing, or buried under the blankets.

"You can take a picture," Stiles drawled, "but it's going to cost you extra."

Derek huffed a laugh and then smiled. "Idiot."  _I love you. _

Stiles grinned hugely. He knew. Then he reached towards Derek, hooking his fingers into the waist of Derek's jeans, once again pulling him forward.

"Now where were we?"

Derek didn’t hesitate. He pressed Stiles back against the door and started devouring his neck.

He could feel Stiles' hard cock against his own as he pressed Stiles even harder against the door. He thrusted his hips forward, and noticed that Stiles was doing the same. His breath latched in his throat.

"Glad that neither of us have a case of whiskey dick," Stiles whispered.

Derek scoffed. "Shut up."

Stiles closed his eyes. "Make me?" His taunt was half-hearted as he leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes.

Stiles didn’t have to ask him twice. 

Derek pressed his chest against Stiles', and then reached down, grabbing roughly at his thigh. He made sure his thumb grazed Stiles' package a few times, just to tease him.

"Fuck," Stiles sighed. Then he returned his fingers to be latched in the waistband of Derek's jeans. He fumbled with the button for a few seconds until he finally got it. Derek reached down and started to take his pants the rest of the way off. When he was done, Stiles was standing in front of him, wearing nothing but batman boxers.

Derek lunged forward, about to take Stiles' lips between his again, when he changed his mind. He pressed one kiss to Stiles' lips hastily, before kissing a warm trail down Stiles' neck. He bit the base of his neck once and then continued kissing, eventually lowering himself down onto his knees. He pulled Stiles' boxers down with him, and then continued his trail of open mouth kisses. He kissed next to the base of Stiles cock, but passed by it, kissing his thigh instead.

 

♢♢♢

 

** "You're killing me here," Stiles groaned. **

** He heard and felt Derek chuckle, breath hot on his thigh. He was doing it on purpose. That bastard was teasing him. **

** Suddenly, Derek's mouth was missing from his thigh. He groaned at its absence for a moment, but then warm lips were wrapped around his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath and sufficiently banged his head against the door again.  **

** He had been wanting this for so long. Basically since he had moved back to Beacon Hills and laid eyes on Derek Hale. He grabbed fistfuls of Derek's hair and stood there on wobbly legs, enjoying the hot pleasure coursing through him. **

** He moaned. He wasn’t proud of it. But the mixture of Derek's mouth wrapped around his cock and the liquor he had drank earlier had his inhibitions nearly out the window. **

 

♢♢♢ 

 

This wasn’t fair.

Stiles was fucking _killing him_. The moaning, the grabbing, the shaking legs. Derek worked him harder, enjoying each and every reaction he received , until he could tell Stiles was on edge.

"Jesus, fuck," Stiles groaned. "I'm-" he started to say. Then he was coming. His fingers tightened in Derek's hair. Derek continued to work him through his orgasm.

"Fuck," he said again. His voice was heavy and quiet. 

Stiles' fingers were still tightly clenched in Derek's hair, but now he felt them tug upward. Derek followed the pull until he was standing face to face with Stiles, who looked like he was still coming down.

"Kiss me, you stupid assho-" he was saying. But Derek didn’t wait for him to finish. He caught Stiles' lips between his own, mid-word. 

He was drunk, yeah, but now it was more so on Stiles than on all the alcohol he had consumed earlier. He could kiss Stiles all night long, and he planned to.

Stiles moved away from the kiss and smiled at Derek mischievously. "Your turn?" he said with a wink. Then he ducked out from under Derek's arms and sauntered down the hall. Derek watched him as he walked, bare-ass naked, through the living room and down the hall towards Derek's bedroom.

The kid would surely be the death of him.

Derek forced himself to turn in the opposite direction of Stiles. They were both really drunk and he needed to prepare them for a morning full of headaches and hangovers. He wandered into the kitchen and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. Next he made his way into the bathroom and grabbed a container of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet.

Derek then walked into his room and shooed Chevy out into the hall. He could sleep on the couch tonight, or in his dog bed like a normal pet. He'd survive one night.

He placed the waters and the plastic container of pills on the little dresser by the bed. He stopped what he was doing when he heard a sound interrupting the silence.   


Snoring.

He glanced over at Stiles. 

He was passed out over top of the blankets. Derek couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He walked back over to the door and opened it, letting Chevy \- who was still standing right outside - back into the room. Obviously, they were just going to be sleeping. That was fine with him. He wanted Stiles, definitely, but he was on the verge of passing out himself.

There was always tomorrow.

And the next day and the next. 

He smiled at the possibility as he crawled into bed next to Stiles...

♢♢♢

 

** They had both slept all morning and for a decent part of the afternoon. All they managed to do so far was take turns in the bathroom, brushing teeth and taking a leak. They were back in bed curled under the blanket, lazily nursing their hangovers away. **

** Since waking up, neither of them had said a word. They were both all stupid smiles, as they clumsily tried to share the sink to brush their teeth. Now back in the bed, they were probably going to take a nap. Five minutes of activity was enough to make Stiles tired again. **

** But he couldn’t shut his mind off. He glanced at Derek who was lying close to him, an arm draped across Stiles chest. He couldn’t help but smile. But he also couldn’t help but be a little sad. They had finally hooked up. Fucking finally. And he had been fucking out of commission not five minutes later. He didn’t want that to be their first time. He wanted their first time to be something he could remember every dirty detail of. Not a hazy memory of an, albeit, freaking awesome blowie against the door to the garage. **

** "So, we had sex," he said quietly, on accident. His already very thin filter was basically gone thanks to his muddled hangover brain. He was moving his fingers up and down Derek's arm. **

** "I know, I was there," Derek said, with a chuckle. When Stiles didn't laugh in return, he opened his eyes, and his face looked solemn. "Do you- Do you regret it?" **

** His voice made Stiles instantly regret his words. The look on Derek's face was worse. It made Stiles feel like shit. He looked so distraught; like he had done something heinous. **

** "No-no-no," Stiles rushed his words. "Not at all. No regrets. I just didn’t want our first time to be drunk, but I couldn’t help myself." **

** Derek pursed his lips. "We can pretend it never happened." **

** Stiles laughed. "Are you kidding? That was like the world's greatest orgasm in the history of all orgasms. No take backs." **

** After a few long seconds Derek smiled. Stiles sighed internally in relief.  **

** "Well, it was bound to happen. You were taunting me all night." **

** "You were calling me an idiot." **

** Derek just shrugged a shoulder. "It's true." **

** Stiles knew what he meant. He reached forward tentatively and touched Derek's face. "Who would have guessed I'd fall in love with such a grump." **

** "Who would have guessed," Derek started, but then he paused. The seconds ticked by. "Who would have guessed I'd fall in love." **

** "With such an idiot?" Stiles finished for him. He tried to keep his excitement down to a minimum. **

** "And a hyperactive spaz," Derek added with a nod. **

** Stiles leaned forward, kissing Derek smile to smile. **

** The kiss was simple, Derek reached forward, locking his hand around Stiles' neck. Stiles pressed his hand against Derek's shoulder and they shifted so Derek was on his back and Stiles was straddling him. **

** Stiles forgot until right then that they were both still naked. He looked down and laughed. "Well, this is convenient." **

** Derek just chuckled, and then pulled Stiles towards him into a kiss. **

** Stiles kissed him for a few moments and then sat up. He grabbed Derek's hands and pulled him forward.  **

** "Let's take a shower," he said, excitedly. **

** He had somehow never had the opportunity for shower sex before. This seemed like the optimum time.  **

** Derek just smiled, and complied. They forced themselves out of the warm bed and into the bathroom.  **

** Derek bent to turn the shower on, and Stiles couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Derek's ass and then kissed and bit his shoulder at the base of his neck. **

** Derek sucked in a sharp breath and Stiles had to smile to himself. This was going to be fucking awesome. **

** They both clambered into the hot shower and took turns soaking up some water for a few moments. Just standing there felt pretty amazing, but Stiles was far too eager for that kind of nonsense right now. **

** He pushed Derek slightly, so he was up against the wall of the shower. "I believe I owe you something," he whispered into Derek's ear, before nipping at the lobe. **

** Then he kissed his way to Derek's lips. Their bodies slid together, and he moved his hands around, exploring Derek's muscled stomach, back, arms. Derek dug his nails into the nape of Stiles' neck for a moment as Stiles bit at his collar bone. **

** Stiles was in the process of lowering himself down onto to his knees, when he slipped, catching himself on the shower wall. Derek grabbed him above his elbows and pulled him upright, nearly slipping himself. **

** They both started laughing. **

** "We are definitely going to die in here," Derek said. **

** "Oh, come on. We won't die," Stiles said. Then he added, "We just might get to have our own episode of  _Sex Sent me to the ER _ before this day is over." **

** Derek groaned. Stiles wrapped his arms back around his neck.  **

** "We should save this for a less clumsy, no hangover kind of day. I really don't want to have to explain to everyone how I re-broke my leg." **

** "Broken during shower sex. Who wouldn’t be proud of that injury?" **

** "Your father," Derek deadpanned. **

** Stiles' face fell, and looked horrified all at once. "See ya again _never_ , boner," he said, waving towards is already disappearing erection. Then he looked up to Derek, glaring comically. "You are a terrible human being. I hope it keeps you up at night." **

** Derek just laughed. **

** Stiles hopped out of the shower, toweled off and then disappeared from the bathroom, leaving Derek standing under the streaming water alone. **

** "You didn’t have to get out." Derek called from the bathroom. His voice was sad.  **

** "Mood officially killed," Stiles yelled. He was already back on Derek's bed. **

** Mostly he was just being obnoxious. He would get his shower sex in due time. Probably many times, in several different positions. **

 

♢♢♢

 

Now that he was toweled off, Derek wandered out of the bathroom.

Stiles was in his bed, under the covers, being a stubborn little asshole.

Derek crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Stiles. "Will you forgive me?"

Once again, why the hell was he encouraging that sort of behavior? Maybe he would never learn.

Stiles rolled around and then climbed over Derek so that he was straddling him again.

Maybe _this_ was why he encouraged such behavior. Yep, that was definitely why.

"Guess so," he said. He kissed Derek for a few moments. "It's a good thing you're pretty."

Stiles traced Derek's bottom lip with his tongue before slipping it into his mouth. Then he kissed Derek's neck roughly, nipping and biting for a moment, before taking his mouth away from Derek completely.

Derek was about to whine about it, when Stiles shimmied his way down Derek's body. He kissed Derek's inner thigh and then licked a trail up to the base of Derek's thick cock.

"Dammit," Derek sighed. He just wanted Stiles' mouth wrapped around him. He wanted to feel the warmth of it. He needed it. "Stiles."

Stiles continued, licking his way up Derek's cock, stopping at the tip to look Derek right in the eye for a second, before finally taking him into his mouth.

"Fuck," was all Derek could say to that. He closed his eyes, reveling in the warm tension building inside of him.

Derek was already feeling satiated, but he should have known that good things never last forever. Too soon, Stiles mouth was gone from him, and it was talking instead.

"Fuck this," Stiles mumbled as he sat up. He looked at him, and Derek didn’t even want to imagine the kind of face he was probably making right then. 

He didn’t want Stiles to stop. _Why did he stop?_ "Don't stop," Derek said, his voice  thick and heavy.

Yeah, so maybe he was pleading.

"Where's the lube? Do you have condoms?"

Derek just blinked a few times in confusion.

Stiles said the next six words slowly, silkily: "I want you to fuck me."

Derek sat there in silence, still processing.  _Dammit, hangover_.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Stiles rolled his eyes. Then his voice was sarcastic. "'Make love,'" he said as he made air quotes with his fingers.

Derek snapped out of his trance. He lunged forward, grabbing Stiles roughly. They kissed now with a new edge, a new kind of fire burning between them. 

Derek broke the kiss and then sat at the edge of his bed. He opened a drawer and pulled out lube and a condom. He tossed it to the foot of the bed, and then turned his head slightly to kiss Stiles who was sitting behind him.

Derek moved the kiss down Stiles' neck and then pressed his hands into Stiles to move him down onto the bed. Immediately, Stiles rolled himself onto his stomach, all ready for Derek.

Derek straddled Stiles' thighs and then leaned forward to kiss Stiles' neck for a few more seconds. He was achingly hard already, and the fact that his cock was rubbing against Stiles' ass was not helping the situation at all.

Derek slicked his fingers and then kissed Stiles' once more. "Relax," he said soft as he trailed his fingers down Stiles' ass.

"You don’t have to ask me twice," Stiles said, breathily, but he was already grabbing the sheets in his hands.

He could feel Stiles' moving underneath him. At first, he thought Stiles was squirming uncomfortably, but then he realized that he was pressing against the mattress, raising himself towards Derek. Tentatively, Derek pressed his lubricated finger inside Stiles. He was hot and tight, and now that Derek was there, it was hard for him to keep a slow pace.

He felt Stiles tensing underneath him, and god he wanted to fuck him. He wanted to right then. Patience was usually his strong point, but that night it had evaded him.

Derek added a second finger, and worked Stiles, as Stiles arched himself into Derek's hand.

 

♢♢♢ 

 

** Stiles could feel his patience unraveling with every press of Derek's fingers. He  _needed _ this. He was aching for it.  **

** "Fuck," he moaned into the sheets. "Derek please." He hated that he was begging for it. But who was he kidding, he wanted Derek so bad, he was willing to grovel a little. **

** After a few more presses of Derek's fingers, they were gone. Stiles couldn’t stop the whine that escaped him at their absence. **

****

♢♢♢

 

Derek fumbled with the condom clumsily. After he was ready, he leaned forward, kissing and nipping at Stiles' shoulder blade for a moment. Then he lined up and took Stiles' shoulder in one hand, and gripped his hip with the other.

Stiles was arching further towards him, and fuck he was ready for this. Stiles was a shaking, groaning mess beneath him, and Derek was ready to have his way with him.

Derek had to summon all of his control. He spent his whole life in control of himself - his emotions, his work, his life. Where was all of that control now?

Stiles' desire ridden body was what was to blame for that.

He pressed himself, slowly, into Stiles, and damn was he tight. He rocked them slowly, letting Stiles get used to his cock for a few moments.

Derek was still being tentative when Stiles began pressing back towards him, taking in more of him. Derek let himself delve deeper and deeper into Stiles with each movement.

 

♢♢♢ 

 

** Glorious hot pain and desire burned through Stiles' body. Derek felt so fucking good. He wanted more of him. He wanted all of him. Pleasure was already shooting through him, but today he was going to be greedy. He wanted more. **

** "Come on," he pleaded, pushing back towards Derek again and again. **

 

♢♢♢ 

 

Derek responded to that by thrusting himself deep into Stiles. He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his lips. Stiles was pressing back into him each time Derek thrusted forward. He quickened the pace, moving faster. He pushed himself hard into Stiles, the headboard knocking against the wall with each movement. 

Stiles was gasping underneath him, but still pressed himself into Derek, wanting more of him, and taking more of him. Derek was struggling for breath as well, and he tried to keep himself from moaning. 

"Fuck," Derek growled as he went over the edge. His rhythm became sporadic as he rocked himself through his orgasm.

 

♢♢♢

 

** Stiles was moaning as Derek was in ecstasy. His entire body was tense and tight as he grabbed the sheets in fists. **

** Derek's groan of pleasure made Stiles go even crazier, and he whined once again when Derek pulled out of him.  **

** "Stiles," Derek said, breathily. He was still digging fingers into Stiles' hip bones.  **

** "Shut up and fucking touch me," Stiles said, as he flipped himself around and sat up on his elbows to face Derek. "Derek, please." **

** Derek lunged forward towards him, kissing him roughly. His fingers then curled around Stiles' cock and he jerked him hungrily.  **

** Stiles tried his hardest not to break the kiss, but his breath was coming in as rough gasps as he neared the edge. **

** He dug his fingers into the nape of Derek's neck with his left hand, while his right hand was a tangled knot in Derek's hair. He tightened his hold as he orgasmed, tensing under Derek's grasp as pleasure coursed hot through his bloodstream.  **

** Stiles kissed Derek lazily as he came down. Then he lied himself down on his back and smiled. **

** "That was awesome," he sighed. And it was definitely an understatement, but that was all he was good for right then. "Now we nap," he said, smacking Derek's ass when he stood up to vacate the bed. **

** Derek tossed him a shirt off the floor and Stiles cleaned himself off. Derek ducked into the bathroom, to wash his hands and throw away the condom. He came back and then pulled the covers from underneath Stiles so that they could curl up beneath them. **

** Derek nuzzled into Stiles' neck and sighed happily. **

** "It's a good thing Cora went back home," Stiles said, breaking the silence. His voice was mischievous. "Cause that headboard, and the both of us, were kind of loud...if you know what mean." He winked at Derek.  _Payback_. **

** Derek grumbled. "Why are we talking about my sister right now?" **

** "You know why," Stiles scoffed. "Mr. Bring-up-my-father-while-in-the-shower." **

** "Idiot," Derek said, with a smile. **

** "Grump," Stiles responded with. **

** "By the way, we didn’t do  _that _ last night," Derek said, with a smile.  **

** Stiles smiled back. He kissed Derek once more, and then closed his eyes...   
**

** Their nap was glorious. **

 

* * *

****

** It was Monday. Stiles was just about to start walking to the teacher's lounge for lunch when his phone vibrated three times in a row. At first, he thought it was a call, but quickly pulled it out to see a number three next to Derek's name.  **

** Guess he was eating his sandwich in his classroom today. That was completely fine by him.   
**

** He sat back down at his desk and opened the texts. He cracked up instantly. **

D: Your dad knows.

D: He totally knows.

D: Stiles. How does he know? Seriously?

** He was still snickering as he sent back his response. **

S: Knows what? That we had sex?!?!?!

** Derek responded instantaneously. Stiles had no idea that he could even text that fast. _Impressive._ **

D: Not so loud. He might hear .

S: Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way, Der.

S: Technology... you should look into it.

D: He keeps smiling at me and it's weird.

S: He always smiles at everyone. He's a happy guy.

S: Plus he likes you. You're kinda his wingman.

D: He knows..........

D: Stiles!!!!??

** Then his phone was ringing, and Derek's face - all scruff and glasses and hotness - popped up on the screen. Stiles answered with a laugh. **

** "How could he know? I haven't even-" Stiles started. **

** "Shh," Derek hissed. **

** Stiles was rolling his eyes to a new extreme. His boyfriend was dumb. Just to humor Derek though, he whispered. "I haven't even told Scott yet." **

** "Stiles." Derek's tone was serious. **

** "Shit," Stiles whispered. "Okay fine, so Scott knows, but it isn't like he would go blabbing about it to my dad. Besides, Pops probably already made that assumption long before it ever actually happened." **

** "What?" Derek asked.  **

** Stiles  _so _ wanted to see his face right then. **

** "He hasn’t tried to kill you yet, has he? Or fired you? You're totally fine." **

** He heard Derek gulp. "Thanks. Makes me feel _so_ much better." His voice was thick with sarcasm. **

** Stiles chuckled again, but then changed the subject. "Oh, since I have you on the phone... I hate to be the barer of bad news, but you might have to eat more of your rabbit food tonight. I have to do parent-teacher conferences. No Stiles' Amazing Pasta this evening." **

** "Alright," Derek said. **

** "Ugh, at least act like you're upset about it." **

**"Oh, my God," Derek hesitated for a moment. Then: "How will I _ever_ survive without this pasta? What kind of terrible person would promise such things and then take them away right before my eyes?" **

** Stiles smirked to himself. "Much better. I have trained you well." **

** "Tell Stiles to stop distracting my chief deputy," Stiles heard his dad say to Derek in the background.  **

** Stiles could just picture the sheer mortification Derek was probably going through right then. He couldn’t help it, he was in hysterics.  **

** Derek hung up on him, which just made Stiles laugh even harder. Soon he had some tears. **

** His phone vibrated twice. He rubbed his eyes and tried to stop laughing long enough to read the new texts from Derek. **

D: I hate you.

D: SO MUCH

** This wasn’t helping Stiles' situation. **

S: #1 YOU called ME

S: #2 you love me so shut up :)   


** As the bell rang, he got one last text and couldn’t help but grin. **

D: Idiot <3

 

* * *

 

** Conferences went surprisingly well. He just wanted to go home and eat. He was still living off of his sad excuse of a PBnJ.  **

** Nothing was the same after deep-fried PBnJ. _Nothing_. **

** When he got home, he was about to use his key to unlock the door, when he noticed the door was opened just a crack. **

** A small part of him was screaming to be paranoid. They could have an intruder. But when he opened the door and smelled delicious food, he knew that just wasn’t the case. **

** On the stove there was a pot that was set to warm. There was a bowl next to it with a note that said: _Not rabbit food_. **

** Stiles opened the lid of the pot and his stomach growled loudly. It was pasta. He never would admit that it was better than his own pasta, but he was almost about to. **

** He ate quickly and got seconds. He chugged some water and then found himself yawning like crazy. He needed to sleep, but he also needed to thank the mysterious chef for his fine meal. **

** He went into the bathroom and showered quickly. He brushed his teeth and half-ass dried his hair with a towel. Then he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into his room to get some clean clothes. **

** When he turned on the lights, he nearly jumped a foot. "Holy god. Shit. Hi." **

** Derek was in his bed, looking really really naked. **

** "How- uh how did you get in here?" **

** Derek was lying on his side, elbow resting on the bed so that he could prop his head up with his hand. He shrugged one shoulder. "Figured it was my turn to break in. You should probably invest in some new locks by the way. I got in with a bobby-pin."  **

** "Where the hell did you get bobby-pins?" Stiles asked. Then he wanted to hit himself. He had a naked Derek in his bed, and here he was questioning him about bobby-pins. **

** "Found it this morning when I went for a walk." **

** Stiles shook his head and laughed. It quickly turned into a yawn. **

** "Long day?" **

** Stiles nodded. He hated that he had to be tired. Sleeping was such a waste of perfect Stiles and Derek time. He yawned again. "Stressful and nerve-wracking. Thanks for dinner by the way. Amazing." **

** Derek moved so that he was under the blankets, then he pulled them away slightly, inviting Stiles in. **

** "Turn off those lights, and let's sleep. You can tell me all about it over breakfast tomorrow morning. After some refreshing morning shower sex of course." **

**"Hell yes!" Stiles smiled, and looked at Derek one last moment before turning the lights off. **

** How'd he get so lucky? **

 

**♢♢♢  
**

 

After only seven minutes, Stiles' breathing was heavy. Was he sleeping already? 

Derek hugged him a little tighter to his body and kissed the top of his head, which was nestled under Derek's chin.

Derek thought back through the past several months. He remembered being so bitter, so upset about this kid just swooping in and uprooting his little utopia. The old Derek never would have even toyed with the idea of being with Stiles - with loving Stiles. 

_Stiles_.

Stiles, the kid who broke into his house the day that he moved in. 

The kid who proceeded to break in again and again. 

The kid who was the most obnoxious person Derek had ever met on this earth. 

He never would have imagined this. 

Even with Stiles asleep in his arms, it still didn’t seem real. He smiled all the time now, which sometimes made his face feel weird. He didn’t want to spend every waking moment at work or in his house alone. He wanted to spend every waking moment with Stiles. 

Stiles had somehow managed to annoy his way into Derek's life, and Derek wouldn’t have it any other way.

"Stiles. You're an idiot, and I love you." Derek whispered, smiling to himself.

He felt Stiles shift next to him, then warm lips met his with a quick peck.

"I love you too, Derek, even though you're a big grump."

He squeezed Stiles tightly and kissed him one more time. 

A few minutes later, they were both snoring...

* * *

 

_ Derek Hale moved to Beacon Hills to be alone, but damn was he glad that didn’t go as planned. _

** FIN. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! (:


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